


Tuleloits

by b0tticelli



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Blood, Bloodplay, Demons, Exorcisms, M/M, Mind the Violence Tag, Psychic Abilities, Sexual Content, Some Good and Sexy Blasphemy, Strangers to Lovers, Witchcraft
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-02
Updated: 2020-06-04
Packaged: 2020-09-26 17:07:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 38,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20393167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/b0tticelli/pseuds/b0tticelli
Summary: "So you're allowed to have a temper, but I'm not,sinbunim?" Jaehyun asks, carefully licking his lips. Doyoung lets go of Jaehyun's left wrist and Jaehyun makes no move to put his arm down from where it was pinned against the concrete walls. The priest's hand then places its firm grip on Jaehyun's jaw, forcing the two to make eye contact again."That's exactly what I'm saying."





	1. sädemeke / little spark

**Author's Note:**

> And here we are at last. :) I've been working on this story for a long time and I'm so thrilled to finally begin sharing it, hehe. This is slightly based off of '손: The Guest'. No need to watch it to understand, but I do recommend it if you're looking for a darker drama. The title itself is from the song [Tuleloits](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MQ11QshWkYM) by Kerli (my second fav estonian). <3 
> 
> I would like to give special thanks to my 2 main squeezes: sarah, stella. Thanks for ur words of encouragements, beta-ing, and being ears that I can annoy with my talkings about my fics. :3c 
> 
> Please mind all tagged warnings! More will be added as the story progresses and extra tags will be posted in specific chapters as needed :) 
> 
> Thank you to everyone who decides to go on this journey with me, and apologies in advance for any missed mistakes!

“Wherever you go, whatever you do, you can never escape the pressure of this water. This memory defines who you are, shapes your life, and is trying to send you to a place that has been decided for you. You can writhe all you want, but you will never be able to escape from this power.” 

― Haruki Murakami, 1Q84

†

Music creeps out of an aged piano. 

It’s uncomfortable to a modest ear with each stagnant, tilted, tired note not going where it’s expected to and it echoes throughout the modest home that sits on a cliff and faces the sea. The music serves as a warning sign that something isn’t right, but there's a priest inside the home who pays it no mind. Blood drips slowly from the knife in his hand, out of time with the discordant music. It falls like water from a loose, dripping faucet. The quiet plink, plink, plink is the only sound the priest actually hears—the only sound his mind seems to register. 

To him, it was just on the brink of being too quiet. 

He lets the knife slip out of his hands—the sound is sharp and vibrates against the bare walls, smooth cabinets, and concrete floors. With keen ears, he hears a startled breath coming from a bedroom down the hall. The priest grins at the prospect of gifting more blood to the Master. The solid floors beneath his leather soles create a soft echo with each step toward the room.

He hopes the remaining human can hear the approaching footsteps. Blood was so much richer under the stench of fear.

In the distance, the piano continues to play unheard to the priest's ears. The only thing on his mind now is a child’s fast beating heart. When the priest enters the bedroom, it appears empty and untouched, as if no one has lived in it for years. 

Oh, _ he thinks _, my room. 

He closes his eyes for a moment and listens carefully to his surroundings. A wicked smile spreads across his face when he tunes in to the fluttering heartbeat coming from underneath the bed, so loud he all but feels it bang against his own rib cage. Slowly he approaches the bed and kneels down, letting his knees and palms press flat against the floor to peek underneath the bed. 

His empty eyes meet with the wide set belonging to a small, black-haired boy with a face not unlike his own. A jolt of resistance from within the priest’s body causes his muscles to tense severely. 

_ Not him, don’t you lay a finger on— _

He digs and rubs the blunt of his nails into the concrete until his fingertips are rubbed bloody raw. The pain of it allows him to regain control. He smiles at the child, moving a hand under the bed. Sheer glee masks his face when the shaking child’s gaze focuses on his hand. He beckons him to come out from under the bed. 

“Have we said our nightly prayers, yet?” he asks the child slowly. The child shakes his head and scoots farther back beneath the bed, pressed against the opposite wall. He makes a move to reach further in to grab him, when suddenly there’s an urgent knock on the door. It’s enough of a distraction that he feels the body—_ his _ body—begin to perspire nervously. He looks back at the child, bringing a finger over his lips to indicate that he should stay quiet, before standing back up. The priest dusts himself off, not bothering with the blood smearing on his black button-down. Swiftly, he makes his way to the front door, answering it with a muted smile. The priest strategically keeps a hand behind his back and the other behind the door.

“Oh, _ sinbunim _,” a woman says, surprise coloring her face, “I didn’t realize you were home visiting your family.” Her eyes fall to his collar. When he follows her gaze, he notices the white is stained with blood. His smile only widens. 

“What brings you here?” He asks, then notices a boy standing behind her, staring blankly at the floor. “Who is that?” 

There’s a peculiar, vacant look in the boy’s eyes. The priest already knows the answer to the question. 

“_ Sinbunim _,” the lady says again, putting a protective hand behind her to push the boy further back, “Could I trouble you for a glass of water? I just need to clear my throat a bit, then I can take this boy down to the station. I thought he might have been your brother, but I suppose that is not the case. I'm not sure whose child he is. He's not speaking at the moment.” 

The priest continues to smile at her, stepping aside and letting the door open into the hallway. 

“Why, of course. Come in,” he replies. He watches as she kneels and murmurs something to the boy. Of course, the priest’s deviled ears hear every whisper she relays to him. 

_ Go back to my car. Tell Youngho to use my cell phone from my purse to call the police, then have him drive to the station, okay? He knows how to do it, so go. _

She pushes him in the direction of where the sidewalk leads to her car and he walks away without a word. A sense of ecstasy swells inside the priest when he sees a bloody stain on the upper left side of the boy’s T-shirt. It wasn’t his time yet, and whether the lady was aware or not, she set everything perfectly in motion. 

The priest closes the door behind himself when she walks in. He itches for the knife that lies idly by his dead parents. When he goes to the kitchen to grab the woman a glass of water, he grabs that as well. 

†

Jaehyun is startled awake, ears ringing from the sound of someone smashing keys to a piano in a hazy dream. There’s a hand on his shoulder, shaking Jaehyun back into reality. He brings the heel of his hand to his left eye, rubbing it as he blinks open the right. A pair of large eyes stare at him in an almost bored expression.

“You need to leave, my roommate is going to be home soon. I’ve told you how he is when I have guests over.” 

“Ah, of course, Jeonghan-hyung,” he grumbles, voice still scratchy with sleep while he makes an effort to sit up. And then, “Sorry, didn’t mean to stay. Must have drank too much.”

Jeonghan says nothing in reply, long out of the bedroom by the time Jaehyun slides out of the bed. He quickly slides on his jeans that had somehow found home to the floor. Jaehyun does his best to smooth out the wrinkles of his shirt while he walks into the living room. 

“Have you seen my—,” Jeonghan shoves his jacket into his hands before Jaehyun can finish his question. A sheepish smile lands on Jaehyun’s face. “Thanks. And thank you, also, for indulging me by sharing a drink. I really do apologize for falling asleep, though.”

“Any friend of Jaewon is a friend of mine. You know that, Jaehyun. _ I’ll _ call _ you _ next time I’m available to hang out,” Jeonghan replies, guiding Jaehyun to the door. Jaehyun nods in response, bowing slightly when he’s out the door. 

“I understand. No more surprise visits,” he says while sliding on his hooded jacket. He observes the lazy smile that sits naturally on Jeonghan’s face. They stare at each other for so long, Jaehyun almost feels a blush beginning to creep onto his neck and ears. 

“See you,” Jeonghan eventually replies, a slight nod to his head. He reaches up for a moment, like he wants to touch Jaehyun’s cheek, but then he’s shutting the door and Jaehyun hears the clicks of him locking it back up promptly. 

“See you, hyung, ” Jaehyun says belatedly, blinking a few times at the solid black door. After taking a moment to mull things over, he slides the hood over his head and exits the apartment building, reaching into his back pocket where his phone thankfully still remained. He waits until he’s a few blocks past before pulling it out and calling one of the very few in his contact list. Yuta picks up on the third ring. 

“Hey, I’ll be over in 30 minutes. I’m positive I’ve found him this time.” Jaehyun hangs up and puts his phone away before the recipient can reply. A bus ride and several more blocks of walking brings him to his next destination in his usual 15 minutes past his projected time. When he walks up to the gates of the small building, the sun is finally starting to rise in the sky. Jaehyun pushes past the green painted steel gates and onto the property. There’s a still hush in the surroundings of this neighborhood and he’s sure his Yuta fell right back asleep after answering the phone call.

He digs into his jacket pocket and pulls out a pair of keys, using the larger of the two to let himself into the small building. Jaehyun wastes no time moving past the altar in the center of the entrance and to the small room behind it. There, he finds his friend fast asleep on a small padded cot on the floor. 

He stands over him, arms folded over his chest. 

“Yuta.” 

Silence is his only companion. 

“_ Hyung _.” 

Jaehyun nudges at his friend’s sleeping form. He stirs slightly, eyebrows knitting together but eyes remaining closed. 

“Jaehyun, really?” 

“It’s time to wake up, _ hyung _,” he says and then moves to sit at the desk that takes up one corner of the room. Yuta grumbles something Jaehyun can’t make out and watches him sit up with a huff. 

“I have no appointments this morning and therefore no reason to be awake. What do you want?” 

“I’ve found him.” Jaehyun says, getting straight to the point, “I’ve found _ Him _.” 

Yuta is silent for a moment before he looks at Jaehyun, his expression cooling into something serious. 

“Are you sure, Jaehyun?” he asks in a voice so quiet, almost like he doesn’t want to be overheard. Jaehyun only nods in response before he’s standing again. He thinks back to hours ago being in Jeonghan's apartment, taking in the details of his apartment in between pretending to be drunk out of his mind. The wallpaper on the non-bricked walls were a distinct burgundy with gold and green detail. It was a perfect match to what he's been seeing with his seventh sense, or rather whenever the seventh sense decides to show him. 

“It’s got to be him. The apartment matches what I see in my visions.” Jaehyun eventually replies, “And I didn’t see anything last night. I was with Jeonghan the whole time. He may not be aware himself, but it is _ Him _ . I need you to help me get rid of _ Him _. I know you can do it.”

Yuta immediately reacts, shaking his head vigorously. 

“No, absolutely not,” he replies. Jaehyun immediately feels cold. 

“But you promised—” 

“No, Jaehyun. I promised I would do what I can to keep you safe. So that’s what I’ve done. I never said anything about helping you capture it!” They stare at each other in a moment of tense silence before Yuta sighs, his defense crumbling easily per usual, “I can help you—just not in the way you’re thinking.”

Jaehyun nods but stays quiet, urging Yuta to continue. 

“There’s not a whole lot of modern day practices that can send a demon back to hell,” he starts, his eyes shifting in a way that Jaehyun can tell he’s nervous, “So I will arrange a meeting for you. I have a childhood friend at a _ cheonjugyo _. He knows a few priests in—” 

“No,” Jaehyun says immediately upon realizing where Yuta was going with this, “absolutely not. There’s no way that I’m going to work with a—” 

“Jaehyun.” Yuta warns, his voice firm enough to shut Jaehyun up. He closes his mouth and looks at Yuta expectantly. “I know you have a developed distaste for priests, but the ones who practice exorcisms are going to be the only ones who can help you.” 

“But what about Sicheng?” Jaehyun asks. Sicheng is a witch, after all. So is Yuta, but their practices were vastly different. While Yuta’s lineage descended from a relatively peaceful clan out of the Ōsaka prefecture, Sicheng’s lineage was a lot more murky—something he only ever disclosed to Yuta and never Jaehyun. At the very least, Jaehyun knew that Sicheng dabbled in dark magic well beyond his own knowledge of the art. 

Yuta gives him an unimpressed look. 

“I suppose I should have said that working with a priest is the safest way, for everyone involved. You know that bringing Sicheng into this is not only unsafe for him, but also any possessed body, and anyone else involved. I’m a little disappointed that you would even attempt to bring it up, Jaehyun.” 

Jaehyun sags his shoulders slightly and looks away, feeling a bit ashamed himself. 

“You’re right. I’m sorry,” he says sincerely, the apology tasting bitter on his tongue. He has to take a moment to remind himself that this mission is ultimately a personal one, and while he’s more than willing to risk everything to succeed, that is not the case for others. Jaehyun looks at Yuta again and tries a smile that he knows Yuta will see right through, but he keeps it up anyway. “So, you know a priest who can help?” 

“Yes. Well, sort of. I have a friend who is now a priest. He doesn't perform exorcisms, but of course, he knows a few who do. I’ll give him a call and see what he can arrange for you.” 

Jaehyun fixes his gaze past Yuta and the doorway, to the altar just visible in the other room. He nods, sucking his teeth after they graze over his bottom lip. It wasn’t a plan he was completely on board with, but Jaehyun knew it was subject to change. Nothing was ever set in stone, plans were always tangible and easily swayed down different paths. 

“Thank you,” he says before looking at Yuta, smiling devilishly as he thinks of words to change the mood, “So how long have you and Sicheng been fucking anyway?” 

He catches Yuta’s pillow just before it’s set to hit him in the face, then quickly sees himself out before he can find heavier and less pliable objects to toss Jaehyun’s way. 

†

True to his word, Yuta does call his friend. The following afternoon, the pair find themselves standing outside one of the larger cathedrals that sat in one of the more developed districts, behind a group of newer high-rise corporate buildings. It wasn’t an area Jaehyun frequented too much, but it definitely wasn’t hard to find, what with its large campus. It was your standard cathedral, with the reddish stone bricks, pointed arches and tall, thin windows that Jaehyun found quite obnoxious. The courtyard was in pristine condition, plants and trees neatly kept by regular maintenance. Jaehyun couldn’t help but sneer at its lack of modesty. 

At the large set of front doors, a priest with black hair closely cropped to the scalp stood on the top steps. Jaehyun’s proverbial hackles rise as they approach him. It doesn’t help that the priest is staring at them with a hawk-like gaze, his posture straight and hands clasped in front. But, his rigid resolve breaks when Yuta’s the first one bounding up the stairs, his standard, customer blinding smile spreading across his face. Jaehyun’s close behind him, but Yuta is already bowing by the time he reaches the top step himself. 

“You must be the gentlemen who are friends with Joshua,” the priest says, eyes turning much kinder as he watches Yuta. 

“Yes, _ sinbunim _!” Yuta answers, “My name is Nakamoto Yuta, Jisoo’s childhood friend, and this is Jung Jaehyun.” 

Jaehyun only gives a half-assed bow and doesn’t bother sparing a glance at the man, itching to go inside already and make the necessary arrangements. 

“And I am Doh Kyungsoo,” the priest replies with a slight bow of his own, “Let’s go inside, shall we? Joshua told me there is something you wish to inquire about.” 

The invite is all Jaehyun needs before he opens the set of doors and lets himself into the cathedral. The inside is as disgustingly grand as the outside, with high arches, colorful stained glass windows, and glossy, cherry wood pews. The time of day leaves the church empty save for a person sat in one of the middle rows on the left. Jaehyun doesn’t pay him any mind as he saunters toward the altar, hands tucked into his front pocket. He observes the altarpiece, a marble statue of Madonna and Child, Mary's empty eyes fixating on the organ at the back of the church. 

A few seconds later, he hears the doors open again, followed by two pairs of footsteps, their delay to follow him likely due to Yuta’s lines of apologies for Jaehyun’s behavior. Jaehyun’s suspicions are confirmed when Yuta clasps a heavy hand on his shoulder, blunt nails digging in. He manages to not wince and only turns his head to smile at Yuta. 

“C’mon Jaehyun. _ Sinbunim _ is taking us to his office,” Yuta adds, and then adds under his breath, “Behave.” 

Jaehyun offers him an innocent smile and follows as Yuta leads him to Father Kyungsoo. They’re then led down a hallway and eventually to an office. Jaehyun observes its lack of personality. Light brown wood panels that go a third of the way up the walls are the only thing that cover the otherwise bare room, save for a singular wooden cross on the wall and an almost bare bookshelf next to it. The only other furniture is a plain rectangular desk and a few chairs. Compared to the parts of the cathedral that are open to the public, it was quite modest. 

While his eyes graze over the office, Jaehyun notices there’s another priest already in the office. He’s standing at the small window, his back to the trio. This priest is in the same black pants and shirt as the other, except he stands slightly taller with wider set shoulders. His hair is longer than Father Kyungsoo’s close shaven head, though still just as inky black. It’s neatly trimmed and reminds Jaehyun of silk thread. 

“Oh, Sandro. Good to see you’re here, come meet Joshua’s friends.” 

The other priest turns to face Father Kyungsoo and Jaehyun’s breath almost hitches when his face comes into view. He was much younger than the other priest. Where Father Kyungsoo had laughter lines etched around his mouth and eyes, the other’s fair face was smooth, save for a couple of faint acne scars on the cheek that was visible to Jaehyun. The corner of his eyes tilt slightly upward like a cat and though he bares no smile on his face, his lips seem to have an upward tilt to them. 

A sin, he thinks, for a beautiful face to waste away on the shoulders of a priest. He scoffs quietly to himself and looks directly at Father Kyungsoo.

“I don’t think formal introductions are necessary,” Jaehyun says, “We don’t exactly have the luxury of time, you see.” 

Yuta smacks Jaehyun in the arm, but the priest pays them no mind and keeps his face in a neutral smile, carefully sitting behind the desk. 

“I agree with Joshua-ssi’s friend,” the younger says, only looking at the elder, “We have more important schedules to attend to than to humor these two.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Jaehyun snaps, feeling his skin prickle with anger. He angles his body toward the younger priest. Yuta, standing between them, acts as a barrier, his hand finding purchase around Jaehyun’s wrist in warning. 

“It means exactly what it sounds like,” he answers, looking at Jaehyun for the first time. His eyes are round like a prey’s, but cold like a predator’s, “I don’t see the point of having this meeting when we have no plans to oblige in your request.” 

“Doyoung, I think that’s enough.” Father Kyungsoo says sternly, causing the younger to turn back to him. Jaehyun notices the tips of his ears reddening a little, perhaps at the reveal of his real name. He thinks that name suits him much better than his Catholic counterpart. “We agreed to meet them, so they deserve our ears and our consideration, no matter what we typically consent to.” 

Jaehyun’s face twists in annoyance. 

“God, I knew this was going to be bullshit,” Jaehyun snaps. Surprisingly, neither priests flinch at his blasphemy and foul language. Yuta, on the other hand, squeezes Jaehyun’s wrist in a death grip.

“Jaehyun,” Yuta whines in a hushed whisper, forcing Jaehyun to look at him, “Please.” 

His eyes are wide in a genuine plea and Jaehyun can't help but let his anger dissipate. Jaehyun sighs, their eyes meeting in a wordless conversation before he turns to the older priest and bows a little. 

“Sorry, _ sinbunim _,” Jaehyun says. Father Kyungsoo nods and motions at the two chairs on the other side of the desk. 

“Why don’t you two sit down and explain your situation,” he replies. Yuta and Jaehyun oblige while the younger priest, Sandro—Doyoung, moves to stand next to Father Kyungsoo behind the desk. 

Yuta nudges Jaehyun’s knee with his own, encouraging him to speak. 

“I’m not exactly sure what I need to explain,” Jaehyun begins, crossing his arms, “We need someone to perform an exorcism.” 

Doyoung visibly scoffs, opening his mouth to say something, but Father Kyungsoo holds up a hand, urging him to stay quiet. Jaehyun regards Doyoung with a scathing look, eyes rolling before he gives his attention back to the other priest. 

“And why do you need someone to do that?” Father Kyungsoo asks calmly, “Please provide any details that you can.” 

“My friend’s been possessed,” Jaehyun answers with an obviously annoyed sigh, “There isn’t much else to explain. Can you help or not?” 

“Surely, _ sinbunim _, this is a joke,” Doyoung begins before turning to glare at Jaehyun, “You seem to be unaware how complex performing an exorcism is. We can’t just go out every time someone’s friend seems to be acting ‘strange’, when they’ve probably just developed an illegal addiction of sorts.” 

Jaehyun’s on his feet before his mind can fully comprehend the malice laced into the priest’s words. Once again, Yuta has a firm grip on him to hold him back. 

“Jeonghan does not have a drug problem, he’s _ possessed _!” Jaehyun half shouts, head beginning to throb at the build-up of anger. Jaehyun himself was a far cry from being a kind, model citizen, but this man was another level of rudeness. Jaehyun would almost admire this kind of personality coming from a priest if it wasn’t directed at him. 

“What is your proof, then?” Doyoung asks, “Do you even know what actual signs to look for—” 

“What Sandro means to say,” the older begins, effectively cutting the other off, “There are procedures that we have to follow. If you’d like, we can arrange a consultation with your friend. That way, we can meet them and then determine the best course of action.” 

“‘The best course of action’,” Jaehyun repeats, eerily calm “And when will you be able to consult with my friend?” 

Father Kyungsoo smiles and reaches into his desk. He pulls out a small stack of papers stapled together. 

“You need to answer us a few questions about him. This is a questionnaire and checklist to help us determine if they are possessed. And then, of course, we’ll need a few doctor’s notes as well. One from a physician and another from a psychologist. We have to make an assessment on your friend’s physical and mental well-being before we do anything. Exorcisms are a very stressful process to the body and can be dangerous to the person in question if it’s determined that they’re not possessed. Surely, you can understand the reasoning behind our process, Jaehyun-ssi.” 

Jaehyun takes in the information provided to him, the anger simmering beneath his veins. He can hardly even picture it, taking the papers with a grateful bow and spending his afternoon filling out the forms like he’s trying to enroll a child into private preschool. 

He keeps his eyes downcast, not entirely unsure that a flash of something wouldn’t be seen if he looked anyone in the eye. 

“The thing is,” Jaehyun murmurs eventually, his voice quiet, “I don’t need to fill out those papers because I already know that Jeonghan is possessed. I know you guys think you know everything there is to know about demons and possessions, but you don’t. So—all I need is for you to say whatever incantation it is you have to shout to him, so I can save my friend.” 

He feels Yuta let go of him after that and Jaehyun steps away from his chair, already preparing to make his leave. 

Doyoung opens his mouth to speak, but Father Kyungsoo, once again, holds a hand up to stop him. 

“I’m sorry, Jaehyun-ssi, but we can’t stray from our process.” 

“What a fucking waste. Nothing has changed, the religious are useless.” 

Jaehyun’s out of the door before he can hear Yuta’s repeated apologies falling out of his mouth. He finds himself back in the open cathedral, head beginning to ache with a familiar throb. Jaehyun rubs his temple, leaning against one of the pews for a moment. He needed to get out of here, the energy in the cathedral alone seemed to be draining him. Thankfully he had Yuta’s car keys, so he could go wait in the car. 

He stands up straight and begins walking towards the main doors they came in from. Halfway through, he feels the hair on his arms stand up. He looks to his right and sees a figure sitting in the middle pews on the left hand side of the church. It’s a man dressed in all black, with hair dyed an ashy blond. He stares directly at Jaehyun, seemingly regarding him in a way a cat might upon realizing the arrival of someone in their lounge space. There’s a familiar, but not malicious aura about him and Jaehyun opens his mouth to say something, when the sharp throb of his headache sends a stabbing pain between his eyes and suddenly his vision is replaced with someone else’s. 

The person walks into a familiar flat, patterned, burgundy wallpaper covering the majority of the walls. They immediately walk into the kitchen, rinsing off their bloodied hands. Jaehyun is desperate, aching to catch the person’s reflection—anything, but then they’re drying off their hands and pulling out a cellphone. It’s cracked to hell, but still functional as the person unlocks it with ease. The vision starts to blur and all Jaehyun can make out is them opening up a messaging app. Before he can search for any other context clues, his own phone begins to buzz and it pulls him back to reality. 

Jaehyun blinks, finding himself alone in the cathedral. He quickly walks outside and pulls out his cellphone. Jaehyun is expecting it, but he still feels his heart leap out of his chest when he sees several message notifications from Jeonghan. He doesn’t bother replying, instead shooting Yuta a quick message of his plans before getting into his car and taking off. 

It definitely wasn’t one of his smartest decisions, but this was a gamble he had to take. Fortunately, traffic is easy and he arrives at Jeonghan’s apartment building faster than any bus or taxi would have allowed him. 

Jaehyun runs into the building and up to his floor, only stopping when he reaches Jeonghan’s hallway, his lungs protesting at the exertion. After taking a moment to even his breathing, Jaehyun walks up to his door, ready to knock before he realizes that the door isn’t properly closed. He pushes on it and it opens easily for him. The building is decades old and the door squeaks when he nudges it wide enough to step inside. Jaehyun winces at the sound, but figures Jeonghan must be expecting him by now anyway.

“Hyung?” he calls out, a slight shake in his voice, his pulse starting to thump rapidly against his veins again. He reaches for the light switch at the end of the hall, but it proves useless when he flicks it a few times and nothing happens. Jaehyun isn’t too surprised, feeling a dark energy coating the room like a wet blanket. 

The pressure in his head hits him like a truck rather than the slow warning build that it typically does, and he has to lean against the wall so he doesn’t collapse. Jaehyun’s vision flickers before he finds his view changing. This time he’s in the living room, seated most likely, and it’s disorienting. He’s unsure how he got there, but then he realizes there's an undercurrent of emotions that don’t belong to him and that he’s not seeing out of his own eyes. The person looks over to the hallway and Jaehyun sees himself doubled over. It surprises him enough to pull him back out and stand up straight, gasping for air like his head had been dunked under water. 

He moves further into the living room, seeing the other person sitting in the love seat that’s angled to the hall. 

“Jeonghan-ah—” he starts to call out, but upon approaching him, Jaehyun realizes that the silhouette doesn’t match. “Wait—you’re—” 

His shoulders are broader and when he speaks, his voice is deeper, raspier and a contrast to Jeonghan’s own unique timbre, “His roommate.” 

Shock colors Jaehyun’s face for a mere second before he manages to mask it with an appearance of indifference. 

“I don’t think I ever managed to catch your name,” Jaehyun says calmly. Somehow, he manages to keep his voice even as his mind races to figure how this slipped through his research and surveillance. 

“Does it matter?” he says, and Jaehyun notices there’s something dangerously sinister underneath the rasp of his voice. Even when he sits back and smiles, baring his unusually sharp teeth, there’s nothing warm about it. “You must be impressed though, that I managed to slip under your radar. While you were out there following Jeonghan, pretending to be his friend and observing his actions while fake getting wasted, I was here all along.” 

Jaehyun thinks about it. All this time he had known Jeonghan had a roommate, but foolishly he never questioned why he never met him. Jaehyun understood that Jeonghan, like most people who knew Jaewon, were uncomfortable with him. Jaewon had become a nasty stain on everyone’s past, anyone who was close to him before he disappeared was ‘bad news’. Even those who grew up with Jaewon, like Jeonghan, were still wary. So when Jeonghan seemingly avoided letting Jaehyun meet the mysterious roommate, he assumed that was the reason. 

Even now, it still made the most sense. Jaehyun spent the past month doing his best to befriend Jeonghan. All signs pointed to him as the suspicious party. Jaehyun could even recall a few weeks ago while they were walking down the streets that lead up to Jeonghan’s apartment. Jaehyun was slightly tipsy, but was playing it up to appear more than that. He remembers stumbling and Jeonghan grabbing his hand to keep him from completely losing his footing. It was a significant moment because he finally got to feel Jeonghan’s palm against his own. 

For Jaehyun, the palm was more telling than time. Belonging to an untainted, unpuppetted soul, it allowed Jaehyun a glimpse into a person’s life. It was hazy, because time is an untamable beast that gives no inclination of what path it’s taking until it’s already in motion, but it’s telling. It gives shape, albeit undefined, but it’s something to the future of whomever’s life is attached to the palm. 

But when the soul is tainted, infected by deals with devils or in possession of demons, a blockage is created because there is no hope for the damned. 

When he touched Jeonghan’s palm, all he saw was darkness. 

It all came together for Jaehyun, even, when he finally managed his way into Jeonghan’s flat and recognized it from his visions. Surely this must have meant that Jeonghan was being controlled by _ Him _ . Because it was only through _ that _ demon’s eyes and the ones he possessed that Jaehyun had visions for. So it didn’t make sense to Jaehyun, that even though all the signs pointed to Jeonghan, it was his roommate who sat before him with evil eyes.

Jaehyun carefully studies him, really looks at him, letting more than just his physical eyes observe his demeanor. There’s a faint red glow around his otherwise black eyes. Jaehyun isn’t sure if it’s really there, but he can sense it—sense the blood red energy boring right into his own gaze. And then there’s smoke—pitch black smoke that seems to buzz off his skin. Jaehyun feels himself break into a cold sweat. 

“You—you’re not just possessed,” he stammers, “You’re a demon—”

The man smiles, once again showing off his nasty canines, and stands. He slowly approaches Jaehyun, stalking up to him with his left arm extended. Unconsciously, Jaehyun finds himself stepping back until his back foolishly hits the wall. He knows the man—demon—wants him to look at his arm, but Jaehyun can’t bring himself to look down, his instincts yelling at him to keep eye contact. 

“You can tell the difference? Wow, Jaehyunie, you’ve gotten stronger,” he says in a way that sounds too familiar for someone he’s never met. Jaehyun visibly swallows, hating how he can feel his body start to tremble a little. It’s all too similar, too close. At this point, Jaehyun knows this man is not possessed by _ Him _, but the energy was very similar. 

Jaehyun can’t stop the shakiness in his voice. 

“Did—did He turn you?” he asks, even though he already knows the answers. The demon brings his arm up to eye level with Jaehyun and he finally tears his eyes away to look at it. On his forearm is the familiar mark, an upside down cross that’s more angled like an uneven ‘X’. An unclosed circle surrounds it like a mocking halo. It’s a deep red, and at a glance, it could just be a colored tattoo, but it runs deeper, more ingrained into the skin like a scar from a sharp knife. At the sight of it, Jaehyun feels a phantom burn on a particular spot on his left shoulder blade. 

“He did,” the demon confirms, the invisible red in his eyes seeming to burn brighter, “And all the while you were out there, trying to find the Master, he had me keeping an eye on you all along.” He steps into Jaehyun’s personal space—his heartbeat loud in his ears. “All this time, you thought you were being so sly, so clever, so close to the truth, when in reality you’re still stuck in the web of _ Anicetus _.” 

Jaehyun’s head throbs painfully at the name. He winces, but notices that the demon does the same. He feels himself calm down a little, even managing a smirk. 

“You may be a demon,” Jaehyun says, “But you’re still under his control. You may have some demonic qualities now, but at the end of the day, when he says jump you have to do your best to go as high as he wants if you want to survive.” 

He sees a flicker of hesitation show on the demon’s face and Jaehyun knows he’s hit the nail on its head. Belatedly, he realizes that he should have been careful how he said it when he feels the demon’s hand suddenly around his neck. His nails extend and Jaehyun can feel them pricking his skin. 

“He said I shouldn’t kill you. Said that Jeonghan is enough, but maybe I should rough you up a bit.” He murmurs near Jaehyun’s ear and Jaehyun feels his stomach drop at the mention, “Would you even die if I crushed your neck? Aren’t you like me?”

“What did you do to Jeonghan?” Jaehyun grits out, pointedly ignoring the demon’s questions. The hand around his neck tightens. 

“Oh, don’t you worry. He isn’t dead yet. You see, I sort of had this vision of killing him slowly while forcing you to watch. Wouldn’t that be fun?” 

Jaehyun opens his mouth, ready to protest when the door finally bursts open. There’s a rush of footsteps and the next events happen in a blur. 

A knife—Yuta’s knife with the lapis lazuli colored handle, a gift from Sicheng—flies into the demon’s shoulder, its intensity forcing him away from Jaehyun and pins him to the chair that he was initially sitting on. 

Yuta mutters something and there’s ropes in his hand that wrap around the demon, forcing him into place. 

He lets out an inhuman, guttural growl. Initially, Jaehyun thinks it’s from being wrapped with Yuta’s enchanted rope, but then he sees the demon glaring at the hallway. It’s with a hatred that Jaehyun’s yet to see on his face, not even directed at him. He turns his head and sees the two priests standing there, each with visibly shocked expressions on their faces. 

They’re coolheaded though, and approach the demon while he starts to thrash around, snarling at them. Without even so much as a greeting, Father Kyungsoo stares at the demon and begins a prayer: 

“Prayer to St. Michael the Archangel. In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen.” 

The demon spits at him, but Father Kyungsoo ignores the action. 

“Most glorious Prince of the Heavenly Armies, Saint Michael the Archangel, defend us in our battle against principalities and powers, against the rulers of this world of darkness, against the spirits of wickedness in the high places." 

In that moment, Jaehyun feels his own head figuratively splitting open. He collapses to the ground, hands clutching his head. Yuta rushes to his side, eyes wide in a panic that Jaehyun can’t see due to the pain. 

“Jaehyun?” He vaguely hears Yuta say, touching his shoulder, but he can’t hear much else. The ache is too much, like every inch of his body was beginning to burn from within. When his vision manages to come back, he sees the priests standing around the demon, Father Kyungsoo still murmuring his prayers. When the demon growls at something in particular that he says, Jaehyun’s vision goes into spots again. From that point on, he goes in and out of consciousness, the only thing keeping him grounded being Yuta’s firm hand on him. 

“Most cunning serpent, you shall no more dare to deceive the human race, persecute the Church, torment God's elect and sift them as wheat—”

Another flash and the demon lashes out, managing to knock the older priest down, but before Jaehyun can see what happens, it goes dark again. It feels like something’s trying to escape from his body, using their claws and attempting to scratch their way out. 

“Begone, Satan, inventor and master of all deceit, enemy of man's salvation—”

And then this time it’s a different voice, much higher, more emotional. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he realizes that it’s Doyoung’s voice. Yuta’s hand slips into his and Jaehyun clings to it like he’s on the edge of a cliff, his mind on the brink of falling into insanity while it feels like someone’s peeling off his flesh, starting at his left shoulder and down to his arm.

“God of heaven, 

God of earth, 

God of Angels, 

God of Archangels, 

God of Patriarchs, 

God of Prophets, 

God of Apostles, 

God of Martyrs, 

God of Confessors, 

God of Virgins—.”

His left forearm feels like it’s being seared off, separating from every bone, every muscle and Jaehyun wants to cry—wants to scream—but nothing comes out, or maybe it’s all coming out and he’s too numb everywhere else to be aware. 

And then—nothing. 

Total darkness. 

†

When Jaehyun comes to, for a moment, he thinks that he’s still ensnared by the demon, taken to some lair to do what he had last threatened. He sits up in a panic, but then realizes he’s not the least bit constrained. 

He looks around, realizing that he’s still in Jeonghan’s apartment, but everything is eerily calm. He shivers and Yuta, who either heard or sensed his movements, comes out of the kitchen, a glass of water in hand. 

“You’re awake,” Yuta says quietly, kneeling and handing the glass to him. 

“Thanks,” Jaehyun replies, taking it and finishing it far too quickly, his body completely depleted of energy. In the back of his mind, he knows water isn’t enough, but he tucks the thought away for later. Instead his eyes glide over to the chair where the demon was—and still is. Jaehyun briefly feels a panic start to bubble before he realizes that the demon was sleeping. 

“I had to put him to sleep,” Yuta comments, his eyes following Jaehyun’s, “When the priests exorcised him, he came to fairly quickly and started freaking out, crying about how he didn’t mean any of it—it was all out of his control.” 

Jaehyun looks at his friend, eyes wide in shock. 

“They exorcised him?” Jaehyun asks. 

“Well, yeah. That’s exactly what you planned to happen, right? When you texted me.” 

Jaehyun shakes his head. 

“No—well, yes,” he starts, glancing back at the demon—man, eyes falling to the scar on his arm. It was bleeding now, but looked more like a superficial cut than the mark from before. “But he wasn’t possessed, Yuta. He was turned—by _ Him _.” 

Yuta’s quiet, taking in what Jaehyun told him. 

“I didn’t know a turned demon could revert back to a human.” he eventually says softly, staring at Jaehyun as if he’s trying to read what’s on his mind. 

“Me neither,” Jaehyun says, eventually looking away from Jeonghan’s roommate, his face now much too innocent to bear. “But this means—that when—when I catch _ Anicetus— _ ” he says his name in a whisper. His body still reacts but it’s not as sharp, and Jaehyun doesn’t miss the way Jeonghan’s roommate doesn’t flinch at all, still resting peacefully. “When I catch _ Him _, afterwards—just maybe I—.”

“Excuse me,” a voice interrupts them. 

Jaehyun looks over at the source and sees Doyoung standing in the hallway, his fingers laced together in front. He belatedly remembers that both of the priests were absent when he awoke and wonders where they went off to. Jaehyun vaguely remembers that Doyoung had to finish the prayer and notices that Father Kyungsoo is not standing with him now. Jaehyun frowns from where he’s sitting, eyeing Doyoung with distaste. 

“What do you want?” 

Doyoung clears his throat, staring at the ground, as if too intimidated to make eye contact. 

“I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but I couldn’t help but hear that you’re searching for a certain demon.” 

Jaehyun’s frown deepens. 

“What does it matter to you?” he snaps. 

“I thought that maybe I could help you. Help you find him, and help you get rid of him.” 

Jaehyun snorts, getting to his feet. He walks over to Doyoung, preparing to pass by him in the hallway, and leans in to murmur into his ear. 

“I’d rather be sent to hell with that demon than accept help from you, _ sinbunim _.” 

With that, Jaehyun walks out of the flat. He’s weaker than he’s felt in a long time, and has to brace himself against the wall once he’s outside. It should feel like a loss—he knows that Jeonghan most likely won’t turn up again, and it’s another disappearance that will keep him up at night. It should serve as a reminder of the power that _ Anicetus _ has and just how dangerous dealing with demons actually is. But in this moment, it sets another blaze of fiery determination to Jaehyun’s bones. He may be weakened now, but it's only temporary. 

And for now, it’s enough to keep himself going.


	2. paista kaugemale / shine further

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> first—my apologies for the large gap in updates!! i got side tracked with other projects and admittedly i had some self doubt w this for a bit, but i am BACK! this is my main project for wip olympics so please anticipate the next update a little more timely!!  
thank you for taking the time to read my writing, i hope you enjoy this chapter. <3 this one is a bit smaller than the first, but it felt right to end it here, hehe. ch 3 definitely gets a lot jucier. ;p 
> 
> p.s. this is mostly self beta'd, so take some more apologies for missed mistakes!! ALSO i did rework ch 1 a little bit. content is the same, just, worded some things a little better imo.

“‘Police have identified Student Kim as the perpetrator of the Hongik University murders. He was brought into custody two nights ago after a witness saw him entering his apartment building with bloody hands. Upon police arrival, it is said that he had a psychotic break and kept saying that he didn’t mean to do any of ‘it’. An investigation is still underway at this time and for now, Student Kim is said to be cooperating with detectives. A press conference, led by head detective Choi, is set to be held this evening.’ That’s the news blurb that’s going out tomorrow morning.” 

Jaehyun nods, taking a moment to digest the words while Johnny tucks his phone into his back pocket. Jaehyun leans back against the grimy door, staring fixedly at his shoes. 

“The public won’t be happy to know that this didn’t make breaking news the night he was detained,” Jaehyun eventually comments. 

Johnny snorts, “They’re never happy with us. Better them complain about that than break into mass hysteria over the truth.” 

A fair point, Jaehyun thinks and says as much before switching gears. He tries to keep indifference in his voice. 

“How is the Kim kid doing, though?” he asks. 

“About as good as you’d expect, all things considered,” Johnny replies, “Now ask what you really want to know.” 

Jaehyun scowls, but complies with the suggestion, “Has he said anything about Jeonghan’s whereabouts? Or possibly Jaewon’s?” 

Johnny sighs, taking the time to pull out a cigarette from his jacket pocket. He lights it up and takes a few puffs before he says anything and all Jaehyun can do is watch his movements. He glances upward at the ceiling tiles. The sprinklers probably haven’t worked in the last 20 years, but Jaehyun still likes to imagine it going off and ruining Johnny’s bad habit. 

“He’s alive,” Johnny finally says, “According to the kid, Jeonghan’s okay. Said he would know if he had done anything to him. He mentioned he doesn’t know of his whereabouts at all and stated he saw him the morning of his last murder. Jeonghan left and presumably never came back.”

The frown stays with Jaehyun, “And I assume you guys are looking for him as well.” 

Johnny nods, “He’s a potential accomplice, after all.” 

Jaehyun falls quiet again. The scent of Johnny’s cigarette stuffs the air and Jaehyun feels phantom pains in his chest. 

“I have another question about the kid,” Jaehyun says after a moment, “How’s his left eye?” 

“How’d you know about that? He says it’s badly irritated. Keeps rubbing it,” Johnny answers.

“Keep checking up on that. If he suddenly loses sight in the eye, call me. Blurred vision is fine, but total blindness isn’t anything good.”

Johnny doesn’t ask questions, simply nods and lets the silence wash over them while he finishes his cigarette. Once he’s able to put it out, he flicks it into the sink and approaches Jaehyun. Briefly, Jaehyun gages how much time has gone by—probably just on the verge of it getting suspicious. He lets himself get pressed against the door, Johnny’s hand moving through his hair and messing it up a little. 

“How are we doing this today?” he mumbles. Jaehyun hums, leaning into his touch. It’s not often Jaehyun allows himself to get up close and personal with another person, but Johnny was always the exception. Without any preamble, Jaehyun falls to his knees, letting the floor dirty his jeans.

“Like this,” he tells him with a playful smirk. Johnny plays with his hair a bit more, giving it a tug before moving his hand away. 

“Stop by the precinct tomorrow,” he says, while Jaehyun works on untucking and wrinkling his shirt a bit, “Speak with Seokmin, ask for me. We might have another person of interest.” 

Jaehyun nods and as quickly as he lets himself fall, he gets up.

“Anything else?”

Johnny shakes his head and puts an arm around Jaehyun. They glance at the state of themselves in the mirror and Jaehyun runs his hand through his hair before they burst out of the bathroom. Johnny loudly says goodbye to the bartender and Jaehyun keeps an overconfident smile on his face while they stumble out of the bar. 

They walk down several blocks like this until they reach a different neighborhood, one that’s quickly growing busier as dusk approaches, pushing the sun further out of sight. Johnny pulls his arm from around Jaehyun and sticks his hands in his jacket pockets before stopping at the mouth of an alleyway. Jaehyun follows suit, choosing to lean against the brick, preparing himself for his friend’s parting words. 

“Don’t forget, the station tomorrow,” Johnny reminds him. He’s looking at him when he says that, but then his face suddenly hardens. Jaehyun tries not to smile. 

“Anything else,  _ hyung _ ?” 

“Just take care of yourself, okay?” 

“Yes, Johnny.” 

“I mean it.” Johnny says, still unable to make eye contact. It was obvious he cared a lot for Jaehyun, but sentimentality was never his thing. “If you need anything, call me, okay? Even if you need money, you hear? I know you prefer to live in one of those cheap goshiwons, but regardless. I’m here for you.” 

“Yes, hyung.”

“And I don’t know how much you’ve been, um, working, but if you need any—” 

“ _ Johnny _ ,” Jaehyun interrupts with a whine, while in his peripheral, he notices something peculiar from across the street. He keeps his face to Johnny, “I’m fine, hyung. I haven’t been working as much, so I’m okay. And I’m not short for cash, you know this.”

Johnny looks like he wants to say something else, but seems to refrain. Instead, he nods and turns to walk away—but before he actually does, Jaehyun quickly grabs Johnny and pulls him into a hug. It’s not something they usually do, so when they pull apart, Johnny gives him a strange look. 

Jaehyun steps out of the alleyway once Johnny leaves, watches him place his hood over his head. Once he’s out of sight, Jaehyun grabs a cigarette and lighter he managed to take out of Johnny’s pocket and pretends to observe it. 

Out of the corner of his eye, he can see a figure dressed in black lingering around a stall on their own. Jaehyun sighs and starts walking down the streets, feigning interest in the various food vendors on his side of the street. The figure follows him and it’s so obvious that they’re trying to be subtle, but Jaehyun knows better. He takes his time going down the street and after a while, he notices that the person is no longer there. Jaehyun smiles to himself, lights the cigarette, and walks down another alley. Once again, he leans against a building’s exterior. 

As predicted, the dark dressed figure walks by. Jaehyun drops the cigarette and steps on it before grabbing the person and slamming them against the wall. He keeps them in place with his arm and stares at the person, eyes almost flashing with something inhuman before he recognizes their features.

“ _ Sinbunim _ ,” he says, not relaxing his stance the least bit as he regards Doyoung. “What brings you here? Surely stalking people is a sin?” 

Doyoung only responds by glowering at him as if he wasn’t the one caught like a rabbit in the jaws of a wolf. So Jaehyun continues, “I’m serious,  _ sinbunim _ . Why are you following me?”

“Why don’t you let me go, first? Surely you don’t want to draw any attention?” Doyoung says calmly. Jaehyun gives him a onceover, eyes settling on the stupid white of his collar and tiny rosary around his neck. Feeling his arm hair prickle a little, Jaehyun turns his head and sees someone slowly walking by. Their eyes widen at Jaehyun’s gaze and they quickly walk out of view. Jaehyun sighs, unable to argue with Doyoung’s logic. He lets go and steps back. 

“Fine, are—” 

Jaehyun is caught by surprise when Doyoung uses a great deal of force to push them further down the alleyway and around the building. He barely has a moment to voice this out loud, when Doyoung shoves him against the wall exactly like Jaehyun had done to him. Jaehyun blinks, staring at Doyoung and breaking out into a grin. 

“Oh,  _ sinbunim _ , you actually surprised me. Fine then, what is it that you want?” 

When Doyoung first speaks, it’s borderline a growl, “What do you know about  _ Anicetus _ ?” 

Jaehyun’s left eye twitches, humor falling from his face, “You should be careful what you say out loud. Words have power.” He pauses, waits to see if Doyoung’s face will change, but it doesn’t. “How do you know about  _ Him _ , anyway?” 

“That’s none of your business.” 

Jaehyun snorts. 

“That demon has his hands in many honey pots,  _ sinbunim _ . How am I to know that you haven’t fallen into one of them? Especially with your aggressive behavior?” 

Doyoung looks at him like he wants to slam his head against the brick, but instead he steps back, letting go. Jaehyun observes him adjust his collar and take a few deep breaths. 

“I’m sorry. I have problems controlling my anger sometimes. I just—I know you’re trying to find Ani— _ Him _ . I don’t know why you’re looking for  _ Him _ , and I don’t need to know. We’re on the same side, Jaehyun-ssi.” 

“I’m sorry, but you’re being a bit too cryptic for me,  _ sinbunim _ ,” Jaehyun says, crossing his arms, “You’ve been nothing but hostile to me up until the moment you learned who I was looking for. Now, on someone I’d like to take to bed, I don’t mind it so much, but it’s a bit annoying on someone who wants to work with me. Doh-sinbu seems much more easier to deal with.” 

Jaehyun takes pure glee in making people tick, and he’s impressed with the sudden bout of restraint Doyoung has over himself. The reddening of his neck and tightened fists reveals the masked disgust that Doyoung’s face fails to reveal at Jaehyun’s words. 

“He’s retiring,” Doyoung says eventually, eyes cast downward at Jaehyun’s feet, “The exorcism with that student took too much out of him—said he was getting too old for it anyway. I don’t know if you remember, but I had to finish out the prayer.” 

“That student was essentially turned into a demon spawn, he wasn’t just possessed. If you had done the entire thing, you probably would have had a hard time recovering too. This isn’t your typical possession, sinbunim. I can’t see why anyone would want to willingly help with this unless, perhaps, you held a personal grudge against  _ Him _ ?” Doyoung’s silence tells him enough, but Jaehyun pushes for more. “So, unless you want to tell me your motives here, I’m afraid I can’t accept your help. I can’t trust you, and either way, it’s too risky.”

“But you need a priest,” he says, as if it’s enough. It isn’t. 

“I’ll find a way,” Jaehyun answers, pushing himself off the wall. Clearly, they weren’t getting anywhere with this, and Jaehyun was getting tired of talking to the priest. “There are a lot of lost methodologies out there, and I have the time and resources to research.” 

Doyoung doesn’t say anything right away, so Jaehyun starts to walk away. 

“He killed my entire family.” 

Doyoung speaks so quietly, Jaehyun almosts misses the words—has to pause, let the words wrap around his brain before it registers what he said. Jaehyun turns back around, eyes shifting back to Doyoung. He’s still looking at the ground, but his hand is playing idly with his rosary and Jaehyun wonders if that’s one of his nervous ticks. He has half a mind to push Doyoung against the wall again in an attempt to press the words faster out of him, but he refrains. Slowly, the words eventually pour out of his mouth. 

“The demon—he possessed my brother. And my brother murdered my parents. He was—he was also a priest who performed exorcisms and had stopped by with his partner at the time after visiting a family in the village next to ours. There were...rumors that a demon had come back and was terrorizing the village again.”

An unsettling feeling begins to prickle at Jaehyun’s skin. He stares ardently at Doyoung as his past slowly comes into focus. Doyoung still isn’t looking at Jaehyun though and doesn’t notice. 

“When the other _sinbu_ left, my brother stayed behind. He said he wanted to spend time with us, but something in his entire demeanor changed. And—,” Doyoung stops, as if he’s trying not to choke up. With the expression on his face, Jaehyun can’t bear to look at him. Eventually, he finds his voice, “Like I said, he ended up killing my family, and even people who weren’t my family.”

“And you believe he was possessed by the demon that terrorized the village he visited?” Jaehyun asks, speaking softly as if he were to speak any louder, he would scare Doyoung away. 

Doyoung, of course, speaks much more harshly. 

“I believe it because I know it,” Doyoung snaps in reply, “I’ve done my research. There was a sudden surge of murder sprees in the span of a few days along the eastern coast, starting at that village with the rumors.”

Jaehyun was all too familiar with that village, as that was his birthplace. There was definite truth in the rumors. He keeps that to himself, not ready to share that bit of his life with the priest just yet. Though Jaehyun didn’t hear any insincerity in his words, he still wasn’t sure if Doyoung was a person he could trust. There was only one way that Jaehyun could confirm it. With a face still masked with near disinterest, Jaehyun steps closer to Doyoung.

“I believe you,” he says, “but just to be sure, you really want to help find him? Even after knowing your brother’s end? How do you know you won’t meet the same end?”

“Only God knows my end,” Doyoung answers, this time meeting Jaehyun’s eyes, “But I will do whatever I can to expel that evil being from this world. And if my soul perishes before, then that was all a part of His plan. Regardless, I will do my part.” 

Jaehyun’s lip curls at the mention of a god, but he nods curtly. 

“Right then, if you’re so sure. You’re doing this on my terms though, all right?” Jaehyun tells him, “You’re not the most, er, pleasant of your kind—and I don’t need you to be—but you have to listen to me and follow my way of doing things. Got it?” 

Doyoung nods once, hands behind his back, eyes averted back to the floor. 

Jaehyun extends his hand, pushing it in Doyoung’s line of sight and holding it out for him to take. Doyoung eyes his hand, then looks at Jaehyun as if suspicious of his actions. 

“C’mon, humor me. I lived in America for several years,” Jaehyun says, “It’s custom to shake hands after agreeing upon terms even out of a business setting.” 

Doyoung stares at it warily for another second, then reaches out and shakes Jaehyun’s hand. To the young, prickly priest, it’s nothing more than a handshake, but for Jaehyun, in those few seconds, it means everything. 

The feelings, the senses are unlike anything Jaehyun would have ever expected. 

The average human has 5 senses, but psychics always have more. Jaehyun was cursed with his 7th sense, but gifted his 6th.

When he touches Doyoung’s hand, Jaehyun feels nothing—and then everything all at once. It creeps into his mind and coats his skin, three primary emotions: anger, despair, and lust. 

The anger is dark red. It burns through Jaehyun’s palm and seers through his veins and beneath his eyelids—and then he sees wide, desperate eyes surrounded by tears and a hand that doesn’t want to let go of his own. The grip is so tight, Jaehyun imagines his fingers on the verge of breaking. 

But—it dissipates into something quieter. There’s a heat, but this time instead of burning him, it stiffens the air and tugs at his arousal. It feels like lips pressed against his neck, but with an intimate intent that also seemed to constrict his heart. This one is a soft blue. 

It envelops Jaehyun in a feeling he can’t define, but underneath it all it feels warm. It feels like trust. 

Jaehyun pulls his hand back and he hates how he can feel the blush on his cheeks. He quickly shoves both hands into his jacket pockets.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Doyoung asks and Jaehyun looks away quickly, feeling a bit flustered because he wasn’t aware that he was staring. He shakes his head and takes a step to the side, getting ready to walk away. 

“Nothing. I’ll get your number through Yuta. Wait for my call.” 

“What do you mean ‘wait’?” Doyoung says with a frown, “I should start helping right away.” 

“Yeah, and when there’s something you can help with, I’ll call you. For now, there isn’t anything.”

“So for now, we just wait,” Doyoung replies, this time as a statement rather than a question, the annoyance obvious in his tone. Jaehyun can’t help but feel a little irked. 

“Yes, wait,” he snaps, “I don’t know how aware you are, but we’re looking for perhaps one of the strongest demons of this era. So—there’s a lot of waiting involved.”

He doesn’t give Doyoung another chance to reply before he’s walking away, hands securely in his jacket pocket and the pink in his ears only just starting to fade away. And if he leaves feeling a little breathless, it’s purely because of the utilization of his gift and not the vision behind it. His voluntary visions never affected him before, so he wasn’t about to let it happen now.

Hours later, when Jaehyun’s back at his room, he’s forgotten all about the touch, and instead has his laptop open, browsing through his folders of old newspaper scans. It takes him some time because Jaehyun is far from an organized person, but eventually he finds what he’s looking for and takes a picture of it before sending it to Yuta, with the caption:  _ found him _ . 

†

The precinct for Jaehyun was a place of mixed memories. It’s Johnny’s workplace, but also a place Jaehyun found himself involuntarily stuck at back when he preferred drinking over working. 

When he walks into the plain building, he’s no longer surprised at it’s unchanging interior, the faint smell of mildew fighting with scented wall plugins. This location is a small one, and thus only one policeman sits at the front desk. Jaehyun snorts when he sees the man half asleep with his head resting in his hand. 

“Seokmin-ah!” 

Jaehyun startles the policeman out of his sleep. It’s a light one because Jaehyun doesn’t have to shout too loud, but the element of surprise is enough to have Seokmin wake and shoot daggers toward him upon realizing who woke him up. 

“Who are you calling at?” he groans, “Don’t you know where you’re at? Where are your manners?” 

Jaehyun ignores his chastising and leans over the counter, offering Seokmin a pretty smile. 

“I’m here to see Johnny. May I speak to him?” 

Seokmin’s face changes subtly. Before, his annoyance was a mask—his tone a bark without any bite. Now, when his eyes slowly make their way to Jaehyun, something laced with disgust lies beneath his stare. 

“He’s busy,” Seokmin answers, voice quiet now while he looks away and pretends to busy himself with something on the computer monitor. 

“I do believe he’s expecting me, actually,” Jaehyun says, “Surely he would have told you, since you're his right hand man and all.” 

Seokmin shoots him a glare and stands up. 

“I told you, Jaehyun. He’s busy. You are aware you’ve come into his workplace, right? He’s got more to worry about than taking a break to fool around with you in a locked breakroom. Don’t you know there’s a murderer on the loose?” 

Jaehyun tries to not let his lip twitch. He crosses his arms and feigns curiosity. 

“Oh, but I thought you guys brought in that university killer into custody? I heard it on the news today.” 

“What, you think he’s the only evil person in the world? Don’t be so naive. There’s always someone just as bad, if not worse to replace the former.” 

“So is it another serial killer, or was it just a nasty murder that has you shaken up, Seokminnie?” Jaehyun asks, adding the last part because if Seokmin wants to play around, so can he. He swears he sees Seokmin’s eye twitch in annoyance and Jaehyun is pleased. 

“What gives you the right to speak like that and be so nosy?” Seokmin snaps back, then takes a seat as he offers Jaehyun another nasty look, “Are you a detective? Stop acting like a raccoon and treating this place like your  _ dumpster _ . There’s no need for you to snoop around like this. You’re not getting any information.” 

Jaehyun is quiet for a moment, taking in his message, then smiles politely. 

“Fine. Seeing as Johnny hasn’t come out yet, maybe he forgot about our appointment.” 

Seokmin shrugs, looking at his computer once again pretending to be busied by tasks on his screen. 

“Goodbye, Jaehyun,” is the last thing Seokmin says while Jaehyun nods and exits from the way he came in. Jaehyun groans and pulls his hoodie up before heading to the side of the building. He’s irritated that he has to go back here again, but at the same time, he’s fairly impressed with Seokmin’s acting. 

It doesn’t take Jaehyun long before he reaches the dumpsters. Next to it, is a cardboard box filled with a thick stack of copy paper inside of it. With a grunt, Jaehyun bends down and picks up the box, walking it over to a trash bin intended for recycling. He dumps it all into the bin and looks at the bottom of the box. Just as he predicted, taped to the bottom is a name, occupation, and address written in black marker.

With a smirk, Jaehyun commits the information to his memory before he tears the box apart and places it in its respective dumpster. 

Afterwards, he shoots Johnny a text with a thumbs up emoji, then goes back into his and Yuta's chat history to locate the phone number he still wasn't too keen on calling.

†

Once again, Jaehyun finds himself standing in front of the church doors thanks to a certain priest who refused to meet up where Jaehyun had suggested. Without Yuta there to monitor him like a dog on a leash, he doesn’t bother hiding his distaste as he waits for Doyoung to come out. He’s leaning against one of the railings, watching as a few people putter around the courtyard. It’s another weekday, so it’s not particularly packed.

Jaehyun watches a gardener pull out weeds from a flower bed when he suddenly feels the hair stand up on the back of his neck. He tears his eyes away from the gardener and turns his head, gaze searching for a malicious being. As if being tugged by an invisible string, he turns around and makes eye contact with a man with ashy blond hair. He’s wearing all black but is by no means a priest, with jeans sticking to him from thigh to ankles, low cut shirt and thin chain necklace void of any crosses or other biblical imagery. 

The man tickles the back of Jaehyun’s memory, and it doesn’t take him but a second longer before he remembers seeing him the day he went to the church with Yuta. Jaehyun thinks about confronting the stranger, but he’s already sauntering over before he even moves a foot. 

There’s a smile on his face that’s laced with something sinister. Jaehyun opens his mouth, ready to demand who he is, but the stranger ends up walking past him and through the threshold of the church doors. 

He turns around and smiles at Jaehyun, “Why don’t you come in, too, Jaehyun?” 

Jaehyun does nothing to hide the surprise on his face, but he chooses to follow the demon inside of the church. 

“How are you able to go in freely?” Jaehyun asks, following as the demon makes home at one of the center pews on the left hand side. 

“I’m always welcome into this house of their Lord,” the demon answers with a smirk, “A pretty priest said so.” 

Jaehyun walks through the row in front of him, arms across his chest as he stares the demon down. There’s no doubt that the stranger was such an unholy figure in the eyes of gods, but the longer Jaehyun stared at him, the more he realized there was something different about any other demon he had previously encountered.

“I know what you’re thinking,” the demon says, giving him a once over, "I make you uncomfortable because you don't know what to make of me."

Jaehyun flexes his jaw, feeling oddly exposed. Usually he was much better at masking his emotions.

"You are correct," Jaehyun answers, leaning back against the back of the pew, "I know exactly what you are, but you look different, feel different,  _ smell _ different."

The man laughs, head falling back as he does so and it irks Jaehyun how amused he is with the situation. It makes him feel shut out of a joke he doesn't understand.

"That's because I haven't killed a human in thousands of years."

At that sentence, everything suddenly clicks for Jaehyun. He's so surprised when he realizes it, that he forgets to mask the expression on his face.

"I—I thought that you were a myth," Jaehyun admits, searching for indication of hidden lies in his facial expressions.

“Oh we’re very real. Incredibly rare, it takes a lot of practice to achieve this kind of life as a demon, but we do exist.” 

“How?” Jaehyun asks, his mind already swimming with a few explanations. 

The demon sinks back in the church pew and lifts his legs, letting them rest over the pew that separated him and Jaehyun.

“Have you ever heard of  _ Centum Daemonia _ ?” 

Jaehyun had. It was an ancient story told in many tongues. His mother first told him about the 100 Demons as a tale about a demonic legion that were meant to be released upon the earth in order to wreak havoc and revive total Chaos in the human realm. They were defeated and banished back to their hell. 

“It does ring a bell.” 

Many years later, Sicheng confirmed their existence as something that was more than just a fable to warn children against falling into evil temptation—a story he told as  _ Yibai-Shisan-Liu _ : 100-13-6.

He explained it through an anecdote about a demon he met in China, one who only went by 8. While many of the 100 were banished to hell there were others that made the choice to stay—thirteen of them to be exact. It was strange to many of their realm, because on earth they were initially powerless, no better than a mere mortal with the curse of demon immortality. 

Jaehyun looks down at the demon, jaw tensing, “I’ve heard stories about the Thirteen and all the havoc they’ve brought to earth individually.” 

The demon smiles as if reflecting on past memories. 

Sicheng had also told Jaehyun about the benefits of staying on Earth was a slow but rewarding process. The thirteen that remained, over time were able to recultivate their demonic abilities and become over thrice as powerful as they were as a part of the  _ centum daemonia _ , creating various calamities throughout their existence on earth. 

“That is true. But I’m also sure you’ve heard of the ones that didn’t.” 

The demon Sicheng had met, 8, was one of the thirteen, but not one of the six. To become a strong demon in the mortal world meant spilling the blood of humans and possessing their bodies and souls. The first six were the most hungry for power and devastation, but per what the 8th demon had told Sicheng, the other seven found reason to reject their nature and ended up living peacefully among humans. 

Jaehyun eyes the demon once more, trying to reassess his initial assumption of the demon, but in the end it was still agreeable. He crosses his arms, cocking his head. 

“Okay then, so if you’re one of ‘nice’ thirteen, which one are you?” 

“Ten,” Doyoung’s voice echoes throughout the cathedral when he speaks, “What are you doing here?” 

Jaehyun whips around at the sound of Doyoung’s voice, at first thinking he was referring to him until he sees his eyes trained on the demon. Now  _ that _ was an interesting interaction. He hears Ten get to his feet and move back into the center isle, eventually come into his vision near the priest. 

“Call it a premonition or divine intervention, but I just felt like I had to be here today. Maybe I was wrong, but aren’t you happy to see me, Doie?” 

Jaehyun’s eyes aren't sure what’s a stranger sight—a demon smiling so fondly at a priest—or said priest actually smiling back.

“I’m sorry, Ten, but now isn’t a good time, actually,” Doyoung says, smile fading rather quickly, “I um, I have some things to attend to with Jaehyun-ssi, who I’m assuming you have been acquainted with just now.” 

Ten looks back at Jaehyun, his smile staying in place but eyes flashing with something else. 

“And it was a pleasure making your acquaintance, Jaehyun-ssi,” he says. Jaehyun doesn’t respond, only moves into the center aisle himself, looking past Ten to look at Doyoung. 

“Shall we go somewhere more private?” he asks Doyoung. 

Doyoung seems to want to scold him for ignoring Ten, but Ten laughs before he can even open his mouth. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll leave now. Let’s meet up soon, okay Doie?” He waves and walks toward the church doors. As he walks by Jaehyun, he places a hand on his shoulder, clouding his vision with brief blackness before murmuring in his ear, “I know of the one that you are looking for. He was also part of the thirteen and the six. Always be on your guard, and if you insist on dragging Doyoung into this, you better keep him safe.” 

His last words ends with a slight dig of his nails into Jaehyun’s shoulder, but then in the next moment he’s out the door and letting it shut behind him. Jaehyun turns back around and finds the priest eyeing him with scrutiny. He clears his throat and approaches Doyoung where he was standing near the center altar. 

“ _ Sinbunim _ ,” Jaehyun greets him with a casual bow, “Are all your friends that interesting?”

“Jaehyun,” Doyoung replies, and decidedly ignores his question, “Come with me to my office.” 

And Jaehyun does without any protest. He finds it similar to the other priest’s office. It’s void of any personal touches except for a small plaque on his desk that spells out ‘Sandro’ in English. Neither of them sit down while Jaehyun tells him about the named woman currently being secretly investigated by Johnny’s precinct. 

Jaehyun had done only a bit of research himself at this point and had yet to schedule another in-person meeting with Johnny, but at the very least he learned that she wasn’t a person with much of a presence online or off. Her only connection with anything was that she appeared in the background of one of Jeonghan’s instagram photos from what appeared to be a party roughly three years ago. He tells Doyoung this much and then lets him know that he’ll be in touch when he learns more. 

“That’s it?” Doyoung says, clearly annoyed when he stands in the doorway to keep Jaehyun from leaving. 

“Well, yeah,” Jaehyun says with a shrug, “I’ve only just obtained her name and address.” 

“Is that not all we need? We can go there now.”

“It’s not that simple. We can’t just show up to a complete stranger’s home and attempt to exercise her. That does not bode well for anyone if we end up being wrong. Besides, weren’t you the one telling me that performing an exorcism was such a complicated process itself the last time I came here?” 

“That was different,” Doyoung defends, “But—fine. You’re right in that sense. How long will it take, what are the steps to this?” 

And so Jaehyun tells him the things he did with Jeonghan—the time he spent observing his habits before befriending him one day in the bar he knew he had frequented. He pretended to be a little tipsy and confessed he recognized Jeonghan from a picture that Jaewon had in his room. From there, their friendship grew ‘organically’ with Jaehyun as the sad, drunk friend, and Jeonghan with too much of an air of empathy to push Jaehyun away. 

It still pains Jaehyun’s heart to think that it was genuine empathy, too, but he keeps these thoughts to himself. 

“You get close enough with a person to see if they’re a demon or possessed,” Doyoung reiterates once Jaehyun concludes his explanation, “That’s a little extreme, is it not?” 

“How so?” Jaehyun asks. 

Doyoung scoffs, “If not immoral, surely it could prove extremely dangerous if you actually laid with the enemy.” 

Jaehyun blinks, eyes meeting Doyoung’s when he realizes how he interpreted Jaehyun’s words. Laughter escapes his throat before he can stop it. 

“That’s definitely not what I meant,” Jaehyun answers with a wide grin that quickly simmers into something less playful, “But if that’s what it would have to get close with them, then I would do it without hesitation.” 

Doyoung curls his lip at that, but doesn’t immediately say anything. That annoys Jaehyun just as much. 

“Say what you want,  _ sinbunim _ , ” Jaehyun purrs, “I promise nothing you say could hurt my feelings.” 

Doyoung rolls his eyes, finally moving away from the door and behind his desk, “Oh I’m sure. I was only thinking that a man without morals or a god are completely doomed. It’s like you said though, my words can’t hurt you, especially when you don’t believe in them anyway.” 

While the words don’t offend Jaehyun, they do irritate him. He thinks about their meeting in the alleyway, when he finally got to touch Doyoung’s hand. If only the priest himself could see just how hypocritical his own words have the power to be. Jaehyun laughs and surprises Doyoung by stepping behind the desk to stand next to him. At this point, Doyoung is sitting in his desk chair and has to look up to meet Jaehyun’s eyes—Jaehyun relishes in the appearance of power imbalance. 

“But sometimes we can’t help but give into primal desires,” Jaehyun says, holding Doyoung’s gaze. It’s faint, but Jaehyun notices the slightest hint of a blush to his cheeks, “ _ Sinbunim _ , I know your religion may not allow you to understand, but I have certain abilities that allow me to see things about people that they themselves can’t even understand.” 

Doyoung finally breaks eye contact. 

“You’re saying that you’re a psychic.” 

“That is my considered profession, yes,” Jaehyun answers with a grin that goes unseen by Doyoung, “But I can utilize my abilities to discover things in our world that don’t belong—which is why my process works. I may have not found  _ Him _ yet, but I’ve found plenty else. So when I ask you to trust me,  _ sinbunim _ , it’s with utmost sincerity—because I know what I'm doing.” 

Silence envelops them for a moment, then Doyoung nods once. 

“I understand.” 

Jaehyun grins and moves to the door, ready to leave until he remembers something else and turns back to look at Doyoung. 

“By the way,  _ sinbunim _ . Did you know that demons have the ability to enter a holy church if you invite them in?” He asks the question in a way that sounds near genuine in curiosity, but he watches Doyoung, looking to see if his expression would change with having an answer to such a question. 

It doesn’t, but Doyoung does look at Jaehyun one last time. They stare at each other in silence before Jaehyun finally turns around and leaves without another word. 

†

It’s not often that Jaehyun has the opportunity to enter Johnny’s workspace. The discreteness of their meetings are an absolute must, but this particular workspace was at Johnny’s apartment and if Jaehyun showed up with food like an old friend, how would any peeking eyes know anything different?

It had been a few days since he left the tip for Jaehyun behind the dumpster, but Jaehyun had yet to learn anything about the murder she was being investigated for. Surprise only reaches Johnny’s eyes briefly before he ushers Jaehyun inside and quickly shuts the door behind him.

“I know I should have called first,” Jaehyun says once everything is laid out, “But before he told me to fuck off, Seokmin told me you were off duty today. It’s been a while since I’ve been here, so I figured it’d be fine.” 

Johnny responds with a nod, digging into the food, “It is. What do you need to know?”

“The name you gave me, there was a death of a woman recently, in her neighborhood, correct?” 

Another nod. 

“In the park a couple of streets away, actually. Woman was found. Cause of death was blunt force trauma to the head. The causal weapon was nowhere to be found, though. And no one reported any unusual or suspicious people in the area—and trust me in his neighborhood the cops would hear about any sort of person.” 

“It’s odd that it’s not in the news,” Jaehyun comments and Johnny snorts. 

“Well, that kind of news would not be good for the property value of such a neighborhood. They’re definitely keeping it hush-hush for as long as they can. Hoping that we’ll quietly solve the case with the little evidence and cooperation on their end.” 

Jaehyun ‘mns’ in response, wondering just how intertwined their suspect was with the other people in her neighborhood. 

“Sounds like it won’t be too long then until someone else gets hurt, and they’ll only have themselves to blame,” Jaehyun says with malice. He fixes himself a glass of water in Johnny’s kitchen, then leans against the counter. He switches the subject to the suspect specifically, “What made you choose her ?” 

Jaehyun sees Johnny open his mouth, can hear the start of his sentence, but then suddenly the scene changes. He isn’t sure if the glass hitting the floor is from him or his vision, but there’s a sudden ringing of a doorbell. Jaehyun quickly assesses his surroundings, he’s in a kitchen that definitely isn’t Johnny’s. It’s far more luxurious and the dainty wrists he dries are not his own. He can only watch as the body he’s seeing through makes her way to her front door, pressing a button on the security tablet just to the right of it. 

“Who is it?” she asks into the speaker and looks at the figure in the camera. It’s a person with hair black as his clothes and perfectly polite eyes. Regardless, Jaehyun feels her recoil in disgust. 

“Hello, my name is Kim Doyoung—we spoke on the phone earlier. I know it’s running a bit late in the day, but I was hoping I could speak with you now if you have the time.” 

Jaehyun feels her smile, a high and kind voice leaving her lips, “Kim-sinbunim, please do come inside.” 

She presses a button to unlock the front gate. The last thing he sees is her grabbing a glass vase sitting atop a shoe shelf against the wall. She seems to lift it over her head and waits. Just as she opens the front door with her free hand, Jaehyun is pulled out of his vision and finds Johnny looking at him with concerned eyes. 

“What is it?” Johnny asks. 

“God damn it!” Jaehyun hisses, quickly moving to the door and sliding his shoes on, “It’s that fucking priest.”


	3. valgusta mu varjukohad / light up my shadows

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ** chapter warnings: ** violence, blood, vague descriptions of self-harm.
> 
> hello, so this chapter definitely came a little quicker this time around--hopefully I can keep this up! :p the usual thank you's to sarah n stela for being a fresh set of eyes over my work. <3 apologies for any other missed mistakes as my brain can never stop reworking whenever I look at this hehe.

Johnny and Jaehyun aren’t too far outside of Johnny’s door when Jaehyun’s phone starts ringing. Even if Doyoung was currently at the top of Jaehyun’s shit-list, he still had to admire the precocity of the priest. By the time Jaehyun picks up, the call has already been dropped, but Doyoung’s contact name flashes as a missed call on his screen. It’s enough to confirm what Jaehyun saw and he runs to Johnny’s car. 

“Drop me off at her home first,” Jaehyun says and then explains the plan to him. With the way Johnny squeezes the steering wheel, Jaehyun can tell he isn’t exactly in agreement with his plan, but he knows Johnny will go along with it anyway. 

They get there in the expected amount of time and Jaehyun doesn’t even wait for the vehicle to roll to a complete stop before he’s clambering out of the car. The moment he steps foot onto the property, Jaehyun is calculating how he can get through the gates. However, when he walks past the gate entrance, he realizes that the door is slightly ajar. 

Jaehyun’s eyebrows shoot up and he pushes it further open just enough that he can slip through. Upon doing that, he realizes that there’s a black shoe wedged between that was keeping it open. He decides to leave it there to pass the luck forward to Johnny and approaches the front door. 

Much like the gate, the front door is opened a bit. Jaehyun feels a chill in his bones and as soon as he steps through the threshold, his body warns him of something evil inside the home. He looks to his left where the woman in his vision had picked up a vase and sees the dust-free indention of where it should have been. 

Jaehyun feels his heartbeat quickening, but he wills himself to stay calm. He listens carefully to his surroundings—it’s far too quiet for comfort and Jaehyun can’t shake the feeling that the demon is aware of every move he makes. Still, he knows he has to find Doyoung and make sure he’s safe before doing anything, so he quietly wanders through the home, looking for any indication of his whereabouts. 

There’s no sign of a struggle anywhere, but when he happens upon the door leading to the basement, he unsurprisingly finds that it’s also open. He leans in, ear pressing almost against the door and closes his eyes. Jaehyun listens with his entire body and finally hears what he’d been looking for. 

Doyoung’s adrenaline-induced heartbeat moves out of sync with his own, but it lets him know that he’s here, and that’s all the assurance Jaehyun needs before he pushes through the door and quietly creeps down the steps. 

It should have been a sign of impending danger when Jaehyun spots Doyoung perfectly in view, sitting tied to a chair at the center of the basement. His head is bowed and Jaehyun spots blood dripping from the side of his head. He ignores it with determination and approaches Doyoung, coming up behind him to undo the knots of the rope. 

“I really should not be surprised given your personality,” Jaehyun berates, “but I want you to know that I think you are the most idiotic priest that I’ve ever met.” 

“You think all priests are idiotic,” Doyoung grumbles, head turning as he speaks with Jaehyun. 

Jaehyun snorts, “Which is why when I say it, you should understand how upset I am with you right now.” 

“I don’t see why any of that matters because I think it’s pretty obvious what kind of person this woman is,” Doyoung snaps. Jaehyun pauses, stopping his unknotting to move in front of Doyoung. 

“You’re kidding, right?” Jaehyun says, “Humans can be evil without the guidance of a demon, you know. All this shows is that you’ve is upset her. For all we know, she’s just a sociopath with jaws you’ve just walked right into.” 

Jaehyun is too busy chastising Doyoung, so he doesn’t catch the panic in his eyes until it’s too late. Before Jaehyun can react accordingly, his sight is immediately taken from him. He expects to see something else, but only blackness remains—and in the next moment he starts losing consciousness. 

††

When Jaehyun properly comes to, he isn’t sure how much time has passed, but he finds himself in a chair. Out of his peripheral vision he sees Doyoung next to him. 

“Maybe you need to learn to listen to your instincts, Jaehyun,” a soft voice says in his mind. It’s clear, but sharp and Jaehyun whips his head around, looking to see if she was somewhere in the room. He spots a shadowy figure at the top of the staircase, but she offers her voice in his head instead of out loud, “You know, technically you both are correct. Humans can be evil without the guidance of a demon, but it’d be stupid of one to reject guidance from them when it's offered so willingly.” 

“Why don’t you reveal yourself and speak out loud,” Jaehyun says, earning a strange look from Doyoung, “Don’t you think it’s a bit rude to exclude our  _ sinbunim _ ?”

Laughter sounds from the top step and the woman moves down the stairs with ease. 

“Well I was hoping to have a private conversation between us two, but if you want to bring him into this as well, I don’t see why not.” Her words are teasing and sinister, but when her face comes into view, Jaehyun’s almost taken aback with how ordinary she looks, save for a set of dull eyes that don’t quite match the enthusiasm in her voice. The possession was obvious, but it was clearly at the mastery of a lesser demon. 

“There’s no need to act like our conversation would have just been between ‘us two’,” Jaehyun says with an unkind smile. 

The woman is laughing again and walks up next to Doyoung, “That may be so, but I’m sure there are things that you probably don’t want our kind  _ sinbunim _ to know?” 

Jaehyun’s smile drops and he briefly makes eye contact with Doyoung. He's unable gage his reaction and it only fills Jaehyun with frustration. 

“And what is that, exactly?” Jaehyun says, quickly recomposing himself. “That he intended to exorcise a strong demon, only to become overpowered by one of no class?” 

Her expression darkens, “How bold of you to say that when I have captured you, too.” 

“Sure, but you can’t even make me see through your eyes on your own, can you?” 

Jaehyun can tell by her reaction, the tension in her posture, that he hit the nail directly on the head.  _ Anicetus _ was the one that allowed him to see through her at Doyoung’s arrival, but when his vision went black, Jaehyun sensed she was attempting to make him see. It was a seemingly popular scare tactic among His demons, only she didn’t seem to be quite as successful at it. 

“What do you mean by a demon with no class?” Doyoung asks before she can say anything first.

“It means that she isn’t a ranked demon,” Jaehyun replies, “You can tell by her eyes she isn’t one. You’re still alive because she isn’t strong enough to break the enchantment around your neck.” 

Doyoung glances downward at the rosary laying boldly against his chest. He sits up a little straighter after that, the tenseness of his shoulders visibly relaxing. 

Jaehyun smirks, “She’s nothing but a puppet for  _ Him _ —a collection plate might even be the better analogy.”

“How dare you!” she screeches, this time getting in Jaehyun’s face, “You mix-blooded brat!” She raises her hand, as if she’s about to strike Jaehyun across the face. He flinches and braces for the impact, but it never comes. He looks up at sees her hand frozen in mid air. At the same time, Jaehyun feels his own body reacting to something—whatever prevented her from hitting Jaehyun was also affecting him. 

Jaehyun grits his teeth and glances at Doyoung, making note of his determined glare at the possessed woman. Jaehyun isn’t sure if he wants to laugh at him or knock him out. 

The moment of stillness ignites something in the demon, though. She forcefully pulls her hand back and grins at Jaehyun. 

“I am stronger than you think,” she says, having assumed Jaehyun was the one who somehow stopped her. “For that little stunt, let me just go ahead and explain what I’m going to do to you.” 

At that moment, Jaehyun senses another presence enter the home. It feels bright—human. Whatever Doyoung had unknowingly done seemed to have weakened the demon more than she realized because she makes no indication that she senses the same thing. 

“I’m sorry to tell you this,” Jaehyun starts, then smiles widely, “I don’t play for your team, so I’m not interested in anything that you want to do to me.” 

This time she moves so fast, that Doyoung has no time to react. With a burst of demonic force, she pushes Jaehyun’s chair across the room. The impact is loud and causes the chair to break when it comes in contact with the wall. 

Jaehyun groans after feeling something crack in his back. With the chair broken, the rope around him loosens, but Jaehyun finds himself momentarily paralyzed from the pain. The woman grins at him, approaching him at a leisurely pace. 

“Hard to speak with a broken back, isn’t it?” she sneers. Her eyes flash with something akin to panic that doesn’t match up with a nasty smile on her lips. 

Jaehyun coughs, blood spurting out of his mouth and trying his best to ignore the white hot pain of his bones already mending back together. He manages a grins and lets out a small laugh. 

“Laughing now just makes you look pathetic,” she snaps, “But that’s fine, we’ll see how much you can laugh when I make you see through my eyes as I tear your stomach out with my hands.” 

Her words are vile and behind her, Jaehyun can hear the way Doyoung seems to shift in his seat desperately as if trying to get out of his confines. But—Jaehyun still keeps the smile on his face. 

“That’s a lovely visual,” he begins, maintaining eye contact with the woman, “but I don’t know how you think you can do all of that when you’re so weak you didn’t even sense the other people on your property.” 

She stills, face twisting in alarm, “What do you mean—” 

Her question gets interrupted with the slamming of the second basement door that leads directly outside. Into the room bursts Johnny with Seokmin behind him, both with their guns cocked and aimed in the woman’s direction. 

She looks at them and Jaehyun can see, can feel the power ready to release from her body to them. At the last moment, Jaehyun grabs her hand, the action blinding them both. Johnny and Seokmin use this opportunity to approach and subdue her. At least, that's what Jaehyun feels what is happening. With his sight gone and energy near depleted, it’s hard for him to focus on anything.

Johnny pries their hands apart and smacks Jaehyun on the cheek a couple times. The pain helps pull Jaehyun back to consciousness and he looks at Johnny with slowly uncrossing eyes. 

“Take your priest and go,” Johnny tells him urgently, “There was another body found in her backyard and the murder weapon was next to it. Back-up will be here soon to close the property as a crime scene so you need to be gone now.” 

Jaehyun nods, quickly getting to his feet and ignoring the throbbing ache of his back. He goes to Doyoung and undoes the rope as fast as he can. 

“How did you get here?” Jaehyun asks him, trying to ignore how breathless he sounds. The ropes fall and Doyoung stands and turns to face him. 

“I drove,” he tells Jaehyun with a shake in his voice as he rubs at his wrists. They look each other for a moment and Jaehyun sees the fear that’s still lingering in Doyoung’s eyes. He almost feels bad for him, but he remembers how it’s his own fault for being in this situation. Jaehyun ignores the twisted feeling in his gut and heads to the door that Johnny and Seokmin came through. 

“Take me to it,” he demands and fortunately Doyoung is quick to follow. Soon enough he runs ahead and guides them to it after fetching his missing shoe. When he brandishes the keys to his black car, Jaehyun snatches them from his hand and gets into the driver’s seat. Doyoung stares at him for a moment, but seems to decide against saying anything. He climbs into the passenger seat on the other side. They drive in silence for the first several minutes until Doyoung finds the courage to break it. 

“Where are we going?” he asks quietly. Jaehyun’s nostrils flare, the grip tightening on his steering wheel. 

“To my home,” Jaehyun responds, not looking away from the road. Doyoung doesn’t say anything after that, but this time fear is dissipated from the air, and is instead replaced with a thick layer of tension. 

When Jaehyun arrives and parks, Doyoung gets out and holds out his hands for his keys. Jaehyun follows suit but only eyes his hand before walking toward his building’s entrance. 

“I need those so I can drive back to my home,” Doyoung says, following him quickly. He grabs for his keys, but Jaehyun’s quicker. He pauses and turns around at the last second, grabbing Doyoung’s wrist to stop him. They’re standing so close that he sees the surprise flash in Doyoung’s eyes before they’re masked into something colder. 

“You need to come up with me so I can treat your wounds,” Jaehyun says, his eyes traveling to the cut on the side of his head, then to the near dried blood soaked through his shirt hiding a wound he can’t see, “If that’s deep enough, you may need stitches, however it isn’t wise to go to the hospital right now.” 

Doyoung looks at him like he wants to argue, but can’t seem to find any points to focus on. Jaehyun watches the way his jaw sets the slow nod that finally forces his head down. 

“Okay.” 

Jaehyun lives in an apartment building initially intended for students that over time became overrun with less savory inhabitants. Nothing, from the common spaces to the individual rooms, had been updated in nearly a decade, but everyone here knew to mind their own business, so it was a place Jaehyun was comfortable with calling his home. 

For the first time since he quit heavy drinking, Jaehyun is regretful of the four flights of stairs he has to take to get to his floor, the tiredness soaking through all of his bones. He powers on though, not wanting Doyoung to notice anything out of the ordinary. 

Finally they arrive to Jaehyun’s door. Jaehyun fishes out his key while Doyoung fingers run curiously along the door.

“What were those on your door?” Doyoung asks once they’re inside. 

“ _ Fulu _ ,” Jaehyun answers, “Chinese talismans—a friend made them for me. It’s for protection. Take off your shirt.” 

At the latter sentence, Doyoung stiffens and Jaehyun rolls his eyes. He grabs a bottle of rubbing alcohol from his shelf and shows it to Doyoung to remind him why. After eyeing it in Jaehyun’s hand, Doyoung relaxes and albeit reluctantly, he starts to unbutton his shirt. 

Jaehyun ignores him while he pads to different parts of his room in search for various ointments and other supplies he might need. He can feel Doyoung’s eyes on him and Jaehyun can feel his own anger resurfacing. It still radiates off his body when he finally stands in front of the priest.

Doyoung looks at him with large eyes, and Jaehyun ignores them in favor of looking at his bare shoulder. The blood around it is mostly dried up, indicating that it’s nothing more than an artificial wound. He pulls a stool that sits in the corner of his room and gestures for Doyoung to sit. 

“It’ll heal in time,” Jaehyun says after saying as much, “The one on your head too. I still need to clean them up, though.” 

Jaehyun makes eye contact with him again and Doyoung quickly averts his gaze. 

With a slight nod, he says, “Go ahead.” 

A flicker of joy flashes in his mind at the way Doyoung tries not flinch when Jaehyun starts to clean the wound on his forehead with an alcohol soaked pad. Jaehyun lets himself become mesmerized by the way the cotton pad colors into a deep red. A lingering fascination sits at the back of his mind and he ends up applying more pressure than necessary. 

“You’re angry,” Doyoung states. His fingers are a vice like grip around Jaehyun’s wrist all of a sudden, and he forces his hand down as he stares pointedly at Jaehyun. 

Jaehyun huffs in annoyance and pulls his hand away from Doyoung’s grip. Their eyes meet with a shared glare. 

“Obviously,” Jaehyun says, “I told you at the beginning that I have a process and it takes time. You could have died and it would have been without accomplishing anything! It’s bad enough already that your actions lead to that woman’s—” 

“And I told you,” Doyoung interrupts, voice sharp like his gaze, “I’m willing to do whatever it takes to get this demon expelled. You told me it took months to track down Jeonghan, and even then you were still wrong! My way was much more direct and at the very least, I was correct!” 

“Fine, you were right, but what good will you be with helping me with  _ Him _ if you’re long dead beforehand?” Jaehyun spits back, his fists clenching and unclenching repeatedly as a way to mediate is building energy. 

“Well at least I’m doing something—at least I can do something. What good have you done beside playing nice or entertaining the idea of sleeping with the enemy?” 

His body reacts before his mind can catch up—but even if it had, he still would have taken the same actions. When his fist collides with Doyoung’s jaw, the impact immediately sends pain through his arm. Belatedly, he recalls the rosary around Doyoung’s neck, but still half expects the impact of his punch to send Doyoung off the stool and onto the tiled floor. 

Doyoung, however, is a lot more resilient than Jaehyun had anticipated. In the next moment, Jaehyun finds himself pinned against the wall, not unlike the time in the alleyway Doyoung had followed him. 

This time, Doyoung has both Jaehyun's arms pinned against the wall on either side of his head. He applies pressure to the points of his wrist where they had been tied to the chair. Jaehyun hears a heartbeat quicken and realizes that it’s his own. 

"I know there is not a lot we have in common,” Doyoung's voice is quiet, but firm. The spot on his jaw was already starting to purple from impact and a bit of blood starts to trickle down his face at the corner of his mouth. Jaehyun can't help but fixate on it. “The differences in our thoughts, actions, and morals are annoyingly stark. However, I would hope that you're smart enough to know that I am not your enemy and attacking your ally is downright ridiculous." 

"So you're allowed to have a temper, but I'm not, sinbunim?" Jaehyun asks, carefully licking his lips. Doyoung lets go of Jaehyun's left wrist and Jaehyun makes no move to put his arm down from where it was pinned against the concrete walls. The priest's hand then places its firm grip on Jaehyun's jaw, forcing the two to make eye contact again. 

"That's exactly what I'm saying." Doyoung replies, his grip staying firm, “Things can get complicated if both of us act irrational.”

Jaehyun lets his eyes fall to the corner of Doyoung’s mouth, the slow trickle of blood igniting something just underneath the surface of Jaehyun’s skin. He feels his resolve starting to crack and even though he forgets the words Doyoung just spoke, he finds himself nodding. Doyoung’s hand shifts, moving to the place between Jaehyun’s neck and jaw. At the feeling of his fingers against his skin, Jaehyun’s eyes widen. Seemingly fed up with their lack of eye contact, Doyoung tilts his head upward. 

“Jaehyun-ssi,” Doyoung says sternly, jolting Jaehyun slightly. Jaehyun swallows against his grip, something inside him stirring. Doyoung’s face shifts when he seems to notice the change in Jaehyun’s demeanor. His eyes scrunch a little, and Jaehyun’s gaze can’t help but fall back to the corner of Doyoung’s mouth. 

“Blood,” Doyoung speaks up again, “You have a weird fascination with blood. Jaehyun-ssi, I need you to tell me the truth: Are you a demon, too?” 

Jaehyun laughs like it’s meant to be a joke, like he can just push it aside like it is a joke, but the look in Doyoung’s eyes tell him he should be truthful. It’s then that Jaehyun seems to realize that Doyoung may know a lot more than he has led on. His smile fades. 

“I’m mostly human,” Jaehyun says eventually, half expecting Doyoung to physically react at his implication, “Human enough to be able to touch you freely without malicious intent, to be present during an exorcism—yet not human enough to be completely unaffected by one...” 

Jaehyun trails off when he realizes Doyoung was looking at him like he was a newly discovered species, rather than something demonic. It makes Jaehyun brave, that if he can tell Doyoung that, then maybe he can bare being a witness to something else. “Like I said, mostly human,” Jaehyun says and carefully lifts his hand from the Doyoung’s grip. Surprisingly, Doyoung lets him and Jaehyun slowly brings a finger near his jaw where the blood had gathered. He wants to touch but he can feel the heat of Doyoung’s rosary warning him against it. “However, some habits of mine are rather inhuman. It’s not something that came naturally, of course.” 

Doyoung stares at his hand carefully, sees the hesitation and then where his eyes are looking at. Doyoung looks as if he is contemplating for a moment, then carefully he tugs at his rosary until it they hear it unclasp. Jaehyun’s eyes widen and he watches Doyoung’s hand as it pulls the necklace away from his body and to the stool he was sitting in earlier. The air around them changes, clearing up as if he had just stepped off a bus and onto the streets of a rural village hours away from any big city. He eyes the blood again and this time doesn’t hesitate to touch Doyoung’s stained skin. Jaehyun brings his finger to his lips, tongue darting out to clean the blood from his fingers. Instantly, he feels a relief clouding his mind. The bones in his back seem to mend a little easier. 

“Inhuman habits,” Doyoung recalls, “So drinking blood like you’re some sort of vampire.” 

“Don’t be daft,  _ sinbunim _ ,” Jaehyun chides with a hint of playfulness, “Vampires aren’t real.” 

That earns an eye-roll from Doyoung and he knocks Jaehyun’s hand down. 

“I wasn’t calling you one and you know it. I’m just saying the likeness is there. Besides, you’ve witnessed what the power of God can do to an inhospitable demon, yet you call yourself a nonbeliever. How can you even determine what is or isn’t real?” 

“ _ Sinbunim _ , the powers behind your words from the books you pray with date much further back than the rise of your version of a ‘God’,” Jaehyun replies with a sigh, “Still, I wouldn’t compare me wholly to a vampire.” 

“And why’s that?” Doyoung asks. 

“Well,” Jaehyun says with a smile, “In theory, blood is a vampire’s life force—their nutrition.” 

“What is blood to you, then?” Doyoung brings his finger to his own cut and lets the blood smear on his finger. Jaehyun eyes it hungrily, licking his lips and waits patiently to see what Doyoung does with it. Doyoung holds his thumb directly in front of Jaehyun’s mouth.

“Maybe something like chocolate with the potency of a drug?” he replies after a particular rough swallow, his throat feeling incredibly dry. 

“Chocolate,” Doyoung deadpans. He stares at Jaehyun like he’s been forced to sit through an unbearable joke and Jaehyun can’t help the slight laughter that escapes his lips, his eyes still zoned in on Doyoung’s thumb, “You’re saying demons drink blood because it’s like chocolate.” 

“Yeah, chocolate,” he answers, “Just a little something to get the endorphins going, you know? The things I can do and—” Jaehyun pauses, glances at Doyoung’s discarded necklace, “Things I experience can be very draining. Blood is one of the things that helps me recharge.” 

Doyoung’s expression turns into something unreadable, and then he touches his thumb to Jaehyun’s lips. Jaehyun eyes him warily, and it’s only when Doyoung pushes it into his mouth does he suck the blood off his thumb. 

Doyoung’s expression stays eerily stoic, “Is that the same for full-blooded demons?” 

Jaehyun nods. By this point, Doyoung’s backed off enough, but Jaehyun stays leaning against the wall. 

“Yes. It’s one of the reasons why they’ll possess people,” Jaehyun replies, “They can feed off of the blood from the body they possess, and if the host is willing to be possessed, it’s even stronger. And the ones that murder are the ones most thirsty for power.” 

Doyoung is quiet for a moment, “That makes sense, then. Ten’s already told me a little about demons.”

“Ten,” Jaehyun pauses, “So you already know that he’s a—” 

“I do,” Doyoung cuts in, almost like he didn’t want Jaehyun saying it out loud, “I’ve actually had my suspicions about you, Jaehyun, and he was the one who told me that you were different, according to him you didn’t smell human. He said he could prove it because you can’t enter a church without being invited inside. That, and I literally heard something in your back break today, yet you seem to be doing just fine.” 

Jaehyun is quiet after that. Doyoung’s words take their time settling in his mind. He feels strange, but not bad at the thought of Doyoung still trusting him, knowing full well of the attributes that he possessed.

“I see,” Jaehyun settles on. He finally moves away from the wall, grabbing the cotton pads and alcohol so he can go back to treating Doyoung’s wounds, “I’m just curious to how you’ve managed to befriend a demon. Isn’t it your job to send all malicious entities to hell? Even if Ten is ‘good’, he’s still spawned from Evil.” 

“It’s complicated,” Doyoung says, the corner of Doyoung’s lips quirk upward, “I’ve known Ten for a long time. Long before I even knew what he was, or ever became a priest. I could never hurt him.” 

Jaehyun bristles at that revelation, tries to ignore the envy that seems to prick behind his ears. They’re both quiet for a long time after that, with Jaehyun doctoring Doyoung’s wounds both old and new. 

“I do have another question,” Doyoung says once Jaehyun is finished and putting his medical supplies away on the other end of his room. Jaehyun glances back at him and waits for him to go ahead and ask, “So in theory...if you were to, I guess. Um—” 

Doyoung pauses, struggling with how to exactly form his question properly, but Jaehyun has an inkling of what he’s trying to ask. Anger starts to bubble in his gut once again. 

“Just say it,” Jaehyun spits as calmly as he can. 

“I just want to know,” Doyoung says after taking a deep breath, “Can you do the things that a real demon can? Can you possess people, too? Can you utilize blood to gain power?” 

Jaehyun sets his jaw, staring at the floor. 

“I’ve never tried,” Jaehyun says quietly, then looks at Doyoung, his eyes flashing with inhuman anger. The panic expressed on Doyoung’s face is enough to thrill—and calm it slightly, “And I never plan on trying. I have zero interest in that sort of thing.” 

Doyoung replies, matching Jaehyun’s soft tone, “I didn’t mean to upset you by asking that. I was just curious, I—I apologize.” 

Jaehyun watches the difficulty Doyoung has getting the last sentence out of his mouth. He almost smiles, thinking about how Doyoung must not be the kind of person who’s ever willing to apologize for anything. Thankfully, he manages to keep a straight face.

“All I want to do is destroy  _ Him _ ,” Jaehyun says carefully, “Because if I destroy him, then my demon side will also cease to exist.” 

At that, Doyoung’s staring at Jaehyun again. 

“He’s the one that,” Doyoung starts, then stops, “He’s the one that made you the way you are?” 

Jaehyun nods and is almost ready to divulge his own childhood to Doyoung, but at the last moment he refrains. He has an inkling that Doyoung isn’t ready to hear about that yet. Given Doyoung’s temper, he wasn’t sure if Doyoung would ever be ready to hear it. 

Instead, Jaehyun turns around and pulls the collar of his t-shirt down off his left shoulder.

“To be turned into a demon as a human,” Jaehyun says, feeling around for the scar that’s seared on the back of his shoulder, “One has to be scratched by a real demon. However, not any scratch will suffice, it has to be a specific symbol—a part of the demon’s own incantation. As luck would have it, thanks to—to someone very dear to me— He didn’t have a chance to complete it on me. It’s why he isn’t able to bend me at his will or coax me into doing his bidding. It’s why I’m still human even though I’m not. Not completely, at least…”

He trails off after that when he feels cold fingers grazing over his scar. Doyoung is gentle, his touch so light that it causes the hair on Jaehyun’s arm to stand up. 

What happens next is even more unexpected and causes Jaehyun’s heart to pound underneath his ribcage. He feels the softness of Doyoung’s hair tickles at the top of his spine before feeling the solidness of his forehead. 

“I know that we’ll get him,” Doyoung murmurs, “Through Him, I can sense that this is our destiny.” 

Jaehyun simply nods, not caring that Doyoung can’t even see it, and thinks about the time he held Doyoung’s hand. 

††

Later on into the night, Johnny informs Jaehyun that the woman died at the police station. It was brutal, according to him. She dug her own eye out and stabbed herself with a careless detective’s pen where the eye once was. Jaehyun didn’t have to ask which eye it was to know the answer. 

He tells Doyoung about her death. He leaves out the gruesome details to spare Doyoung’s soul, but with the way Doyoung stares at him after, it’s apparent he knows that something was left out of the story. Doyoung doesn’t pry, though, only politely changes the subject by presenting Jaehyun with more questions about himself. 

And so Jaehyun tells him. 

††

Time passes with no particular sense of rush or slowness after that—it just is. Doyoung gets reprimanded by his church for not obeying practice. Forced to sit out performing any exorcisms until further notice. Not that it mattered to him at this point anyway, Doyoung would tell Jaehyun when they meet up afterwards. Now that he was finally on the correct path of destroying the demon, there was a lot that seemed to lack importance. 

In the end, it doesn’t turn out to be a bad thing anyway because Doyoung’s forced to sift through applications from people concerned their loved ones were possessed. Jaehyun reasons that this way, if the church happens to stumble upon a real possession, Doyoung’s eyes will see it first. Doyoung himself remains skeptical, but can’t argue with the logic in Jaehyun’s statement. 

And so Doyoung takes his punishment in stride.

††

The more time they spend together, the more Jaehyun realizes how strange Doyoung is for a priest. His temperament was already questionable, but he often found Doyoung teetering off and on the edge of what is or isn’t moral from a Catholic point of view. 

There are instances where Jaehyun’s meeting up with him after working the previous night before. 

“I'm a psychic, remember?” Jaehyun tells him, and then explains that he rents a modest stall in one of the neighborhoods with a livelier nightlife where he provides palm readings from time to time. While he can’t exactly predict the future, Jaehyun is able to touch hands and sense what the customer’s worries are, and then base his predictions off of that. 

Doyoung snorts and berates Jaehyun for his occupation, but he also sees the tiredness in his face. Jaehyun tries to shrug it off when Doyoung points it out, tells him that it’s just the exertion of his senses, and after a day he’ll be back in full spirits. 

But then Doyoung scratches at the healing wound on his shoulder until it bleeds and lets Jaehyun lick it off his finger tips. 

Neither discuss the morality of Doyoung’s actions, but Jaehyun can see by the look in his eyes that it isn’t a concern for him, either. 

It becomes a bit of a regular occurrence for them—not habitual necessarily, but if Jaehyun needs it and Doyoung can sense it, he’s more than willing to take the brunt of the pain to soothe Jaehyun’s. 

It leaves Jaehyun feeling something strange within himself—something that both burrows in his heart and drops into his gut. He keeps it there, though leaves it alone in hopes that it would die off or fade away unforgotten. 

††

“Johnny-hyung says that they’ve got their eyes on this kid now,” Jaehyun informs Doyoung. Jaehyun’s sitting on his floor in front of his coffee table while Doyoung sits on the couch behind him. He points to a picture displayed on his laptop screen and Doyoung leans in to look at the photo, his head hovering over Jaehyun’s right shoulder. “He was a classmate of that Kim student,” Jaehyun goes on to say, then scrolls further down his sns page, mouse hovering over another photo, “See? There are more selfies of them together throughout the page.” 

“Ah,” Doyoung says, “And do you think he’s someone that warrants suspicion?” 

Jaehyun shakes his head. 

“It was a name given to the police by student Kim,” Jaehyun replies, exiting out of the page, “I think he just may be trying to throw them off—may be trying to protect someone else involved. I’m just not sure who yet.” 

He shuts his laptop and sighs deeply, rubbing his left eye. 

“You’re exhausted again,” Doyoung comments. Jaehyun shifts, angling himself so he’s facing Doyoung, then peeks at him from behind his hand. 

“It was a busy night,” Jaehyun says slowly, then turns back around. He waits, and as expected, he hears the sound of Doyoung removing the rosary from around his neck. Doyoung reaches over him to set it on the coffee table, then Jaehyun feels him tugging at the scruff of his shirt. 

“Let me help you.” 

Jaehyun looks back at him, indulging himself a glance at the willing look in Doyoung’s eyes. Then, he stands and takes a seat next to Doyoung on the couch. 

“Thank you,  _ sinbunim _ ,” Jaehyun replies and then waits once more. He’s learned not to look, Doyoung prefers it that way, so he stares straight ahead and waits for the appearance of fingers nearing his lips. It’s always a thrill though because he can smell it before he can see it. Jaehyun has only tasted blood sparingly throughout his life, but Doyoung’s blood was by far the best. The moment the scent hits the air, it warms his entire body like it was nectar for the gods. 

Jaehyun inhales slowly and his eyes follow Doyoung’s fingers as they appear in his line of sight. Jaehyun gingerly touches Doyoung’s wrist after they make eye contact, then brings them to his lips. It’s a brush hardly considered a kiss, but Jaehyun does it as a thank you before he darts his tongue out and laps up the blood. 

“Does Johnny do this for you at all?” Doyoung suddenly asks, voice dripping with attempted nonchalance when the blood is gone. Jaehyun stills and lets go of Doyoung’s hand. 

“Excuse me?” Jaehyun asks, his ears reddening at the question. 

“I believe my inquiry was quite clear,” Doyoung replies. 

“I—no. He doesn’t,” Jaehyun finally says, “It’s...never been brought up. I would never ask him to do that, anyway.” 

“Oh,” is all Doyoung says as a reply, his hands falling into his lap. 

Jaehyun frowns, “What even warranted you to ask that kind of question?” He watches the slow roll of Doyoung’s shrug. 

“I was just curious,” Doyoung replies, “That day we spoke in the alley—I also saw both of you coming out of that bar. I know you’re close with him.” 

The red in Jaehyun’s ears spreads down his neck and to his cheeks. 

“It’s not what you think,” Jaehyun says quickly, “It’s—it’s complicated. But he’s not...he’s just a friend. No, more than a friend, but like a brother.” 

Doyoung’s eyebrows raise slightly, “Brother? You two looked a little less brotherly stumbling out of the bar.” 

“Like I said, it’s complicated.” Jaehyun emphasizes and when he realizes Doyoung is looking at him expectantly, “You know what he does for a living, however, what you may not know is that he also works for a division that works special cases. Things that are unexplainable—supernatural, for lack of a better word. No one else, aside from Seokmin, is apart of it in their precinct, so they have to be super secretive about it. Because of my abilities, Johnny involves me in his cases, because I’m actually useful in them, and at the same time it’s beneficial for me and my own thing. This special division requires total secrecy though, including of its informants, so I play the role of Johnny’s drunk hook-up. It’s not the most glamorous role, but I don’t really give a damn how people see me, so.” 

Silence encompasses them for a moment and Jaehyun lets it be so Doyoung can digest the words. He’s not expecting the finger that creeps up near his lips once again stained with blood. Jaehyun stares at it, then back at Doyoung. 

“You’re quite the actor, aren’t you?” Doyoung says at last, nudging his finger against Jaehyun’s lip until he allows himself to give in and open his mouth. He welcomes the blood on his tongue, then smiles wryly. 

“I do what I can to survive,” Jaehyun replies with quick lick of his lower lip. 

“That brings me to another question, if I may.” 

Jaehyun gives him a careful look, almost wary of what his next question might be, “Ask away.” 

“My blood isn’t the only that you’ve tasted, right?” Doyoung asks, “Surely you’ve had others?” 

Jaehyun feels his face coloring again, but he settles on a laugh and admits, “Occasionally, yeah. Never like this, though.”

“What do you mean, ‘like this’?” Doyoung questions. Ironically, he holds his fingers in front of Jaehyun’s lips again. 

Jaehyun grabs his wrist and shakes it gently for emphasis, “I mean like this. So willingly given.” 

The way he says it makes Doyoung retract his hand, “Willingly? So you took blood from people unwillingly?”

“Not in the way you’re thinking,” Jaehyun starts, a sly smile appearing on his face, “They knew very well what was going on and consented to everything—they just didn’t know the complete reason why I enjoyed making them bleed.” 

Doyoung squints at him, eyebrows furrowing. 

“You’re not making any sense,” Doyoung replies, his lips pursed. 

“You’re really going to make me say it out loud, huh,  _ sinbunim _ ? ” Jaehyun whines, looking away. After a moment he smiles coyly and looks back at Doyoung, “I’m talking about sex. I know it’s something you have no experience with, but now do you understand?” 

Doyoung nods once, looks pointedly away from Jaehyun. He bears witness to the pink tinting Doyoung’s cheeks and it only makes his smile widen. 

“Did I embarrass you?” Jaehyun asks, taking Doyoung’s hand and bringing it near his lips, “Your untouched virtue is nothing to be ashamed of. Maybe that’s what makes your blood taste so good.” 

Doyoung pulls his hand away quickly, making a noise of discontentment. He starts to hide his face in his hands, but seems to remember the blood on his fingertips and moves his hands into his lap at the last moment. Jaehyun begins to laugh, but it dies in his throat when he sees the stain left on Doyoung’s bottom lip as a result. Perhaps he stares in silence for longer than what’s appropriate, because Doyoung turns his head so he’s facing Jaehyun. The blood pulls Jaehyun in like a magnetic force. 

“ _ Sinbunim _ ,” Jaehyun starts, then stops, his hand reaching to cup Doyoung’s jaw, but stopping at the last second.

“What?” Doyoung says, turning his head to move away from Jaehyun’s grasp but also not making any further movement to put any distance between them. 

“Your lip has a bit of blood on it,” Jaehyun points out. He licks his own lips carefully, the taste of the priest’s blood still on his tongue. Blood tasted different from person to person and Jaehyun had long since established that Doyoung’s was the best he’s ever had, but taste still ceased to surprise him. Whereas he expected to taste demure, there was something tainted about it, mixed with his willingness, that made it so intoxicating. 

Doyoung stares at him and speaks carefully, yanking Jaehyun out of his thoughts, “Did you want to do something about it, then?”

Jaehyun’s eyes widen the moment he registers what Doyoung is asking him. When their eyes meet, the determination in the priests eyes gives him the permission he needs to do what he wants. Jaehyun leans in a little further, then moves his hand, ready to swipe the blood off Doyoung’s lip. However, just before he can do so, Doyoung catches his wrist. Jaehyun’s eyes flicker back to his to question why he stopped him. 

“ _ Sinbu— _ ” Jaehyun starts, but the stops, the question gets lost in his throat when he sees Doyoung looking directly at Jaehyun’s lips. 

“Go on,” Doyoung says quietly, his eyes not wavering. 

Jaehyun takes a short breath and without further preamble he shortens the gap between their lips, flicking his tongue out. He laps up the blood staining Doyoung’s lip—it doesn’t take but a mere second, but in that moment, he hears the way Doyoung’s breath hitches at the contact. It’s gone too fast, and Jaehyun just about ready to pull away when Doyoung smears more blood onto his lip. Their eyes meet briefly and Doyoung’s gaze send a familiar jolt to the pit of Jaehyun’s stomach. 

He does it again, flicking his tongue out along Doyoung’s lip, but does something different when he takes his lower lip into his mouth. Jaehyun’s hand finds purchase at the back of Doyoung’s neck as he steadies himself and cleans the blood off his lips. 

This time when it’s clean, Jaehyun forces himself away and puts another person of space between them. He eyes Doyoung warily before looking anywhere else. 

“I’m sorry,” Jaehyun rushes out, “I—” 

Once again the words get lost in his throat because he hears a grunt escape from Doyoung’s lips and when he looks his way he’s not prepared for what he sees. 

Doyoung is looking at him with dark eyes, teeth pressed into his lower lip with such force, Jaehyun can see and smell the blood from the puncture wound. It begins to pool in a singular place and Doyoung lets lips separate from his teeth and jut out just enough. 

“Doyoung,” Jaehyun says, voice broken and formalities gone out of his brain. He swallows roughly and enters Doyoung’s personal space again, Doyoung remaining still, but expectant. Jaehyun’s focus is solely to his lips, and Jaehyun wants nothing more than take his lip back into his mouth and suckle the blood, but the hesitation lingers too largely in his mind. Everything about this felt equally wrong as it felt good. He exhales a shaking breath and pulls back again, another apology ready to fall off of his lips. 

Before the shape even forms inside his mouth, Jaehyun finds his back pressed against the couch cushions. He looks up in a daze and finds Doyoung hovering over him. His facial expression looking halfway like he didn’t mean to do this, but then it settles into something a lot less like regret and more like want. Jaehyun swallows. 

“Jaehyun,” Doyoung says, bringing his head down so his lips hover near Jaehyun’s, “It’s okay. You can take what you want.” 

And so Jaehyun does. 

††

Jaehyun isn’t sure why he’s walking Doyoung to his car, but it feels like it’s the least he can do as an atonement for learning what a priest’s lips feel like. He tries to gage what Doyoung’s thinking and feeling, but his face is once again void of any emotion and Jaehyun wasn’t about to try and hold his hand again. 

“So ah,  _ sinbunim _ ,” Jaehyun starts, rubbing the back of his head. They’re standing on the sidewalk near Doyoung’s car door. 

Doyoung turns to face him, hand on the door handle. His expression stiffens suddenly and looks somewhere behind Jaehyun, speaking before Jaehyun has a chance to continue, “May we help you?” 

Jaehyun felt the presence behind him but didn’t think anything of it until Doyoung spoke. He hones in on the feeling he gets from it and purses his lips. It feels familiar, yet the hair on the back of Jaehyun’s neck stand up. Slowly he turns to face the person Doyoung was addressing and then feels his heart jump into his throat. 

“Jeonghan?” 

The world seems to still for a moment and fade into the background. Jeonghan smirks at him, arms crossed over his chest. 

“Hi Jaehyun,” he says, stepping closer, “I get the feeling that you’ve been looking around for me, no?” 

Jaehyun has the urge to pull Jeonghan into a hug, but he refrains. 

“I thought that you may have been—” 

“No matter what you thought, it doesn’t matter because I’m okay. Not a single hair harmed.” 

“Hyung,” Jaehyun chokes out, staring at him, “I’m still sorry about everything. I don’t know what you know, but I made a lot of mistakes and assumed the wrong thing—” 

“Jaehyun,” Jeonghan’s voice is firm, his eyes sharp, “I told you, I’m okay. It’s fine.”

“What happened to you? Where did you go? How come you never tried to contact me?” Jaehyun asks instead. He takes a step closer to Jeonghan, but Jeonghan takes a step back. 

“I’ll explain everything in due time,” Jeonghan says with a slight laugh, “However, I have to go to the police station right now. Apparently they want to question me? I just wanted to stop by and see you before I went. You can stop worrying now, okay?” 

Jaehyun smiles weakly, eyes flickering to the ground, “Okay.” 

“I did get a new phone though, so I’ll text you the number? We’ll be in touch soon,” He takes another step back, eyes flickering behind Jaehyun. He bows and says a polite  _ 'sinbunim’ _ before walking away. Jaehyun watches him go, eyes still wide in surprise. Doyoung clears his throat and it’s only then that Jaehyun remembers that he was still standing behind him. Jaehyun quickly turns around and bows and says a couple words of goodbye before rushing back into the building, the phone in his pocket feeling heavy as he waits for Jeonghan’s text.


	4. puhasta mis ära olnud / cleanse what has been

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ** chapter warnings: **blood play, descriptions of self-harm.
> 
> hello again :D hehe we are finally over he halfway point. as usual, please mind the chapter warnings and apologies for any missed mistakes! 
> 
> also, per uzsh, an always grateful shoutout to sarah for her encouragements and thinly veiled threats that keep me going. <3

Doyoung wastes no time voicing his suspicions. 

“There’s something off about him.” 

It’s the first set of words that leave his mouth upon their next meeting in Jaehyun’s room. Jaehyun is quick to deflect, stating that Jeonghan’s innocence was already proven that day with the reveal of his roommate’s true nature. 

“But why did he show up so suddenly? Why didn’t he leave you any indication before then that he was fine?” Doyoung presses on. A frustrated sigh pushes out of Jaehyun’s lips. 

“Why is that even an issue with you?” Jaehyun snaps, “He doesn’t owe me anything—we weren’t even that close beforehand. I was more of a pest than anything. A pest, mind you, who thought he was both possessed and a serial killer.” 

Doyoung blinks, his stare boring into Jaehyun like he’s said something very obvious. He replies, “And if that’s the case, isn’t it weird that he shows up being nice to you?” 

The logic in Doyoung’s words almost get to Jaehyun, but he pushes it away. 

“Listen,  _ sinbunim _ . Just because you’re always cold doesn’t mean everyone else is the same.” 

“I just think that you should at least have some suspicions about him,” Doyoung retorts with matching intensity. 

“If he does anything that seems suspicious, I’ll know once I talk with him.” Jaehyun’s anger prickles at his skin. Doyoung’s reply is quick, but it goes unheard to Jaehyun’s ears. He pointedly ignores him in favor of grabbing a noodle packet from one of his storage cabinets. 

Jaehyun gets ready to kick Doyoung out so he can cook his quick dinner in the common area where the kitchen was, when suddenly the feeling of anger seems to congregate as a sharp pain between his eyes, his vision starting to blur. 

Jaehyun staggers, the packet falling out of his hand. From somewhere near him he can hear Doyoung’s concerned voice, but it sounds distorted as if he was trying to speak to Jaehyun while underwater. He clutches the back of his couch so he doesn’t collapse—and then everything is black. The moment he can see again Jaehyun knows whose eyes he’s seeing through. 

There’s a man standing—no, crawling— away from him. His leg is angled in a way it shouldn’t be and blood stains the floor behind him. Jaehyun— _ Anicetus _ licks his lips and grins. 

“Why are you acting so scared in front of your  _ hyung _ ?” he asks. The man responds with a whimper that only urges  _ Anicetus _ to catch up with him. He stands in front of him, kneels down to his level, the twisted smile on his face is anything but kind, “You were so talkative earlier, so open to give me everything until you realized the price of it. I really don’t see what the big deal is. I just want your blood and soul as the price for power, is that really too much to ask?” 

He reaches out to grab the man’s jaw, when in a sudden burst of energy, the man knocks his hand away and then punches  _ Anicetus _ with all the strength he could muster. Jaehyun feels the punch and it hurts like the person has experience with making it that way. 

If only it were enough.

_ Anicetus _ doesn’t clutch his jaw like the way Jaehyun expects him to. He feels the grin on his face wetting with the blood of his split lip and shoves the man down with inhuman force, straddling his stomach. 

One hand immediately goes to his left eye, thumb threatening to press into the socket, but the man doesn’t give in yet. Hands find  _ Anicetus’ _ face and nails dig into his flesh. The pain is sharp and feels much worse than it probably is and Jaehyun wants to scream, but once again all he can do is just feel and watch the man below him. It’s the worst than any other time that Jaehyun has seen through His eyes and it feels like he is going to pass out from the pain, but he can’t. 

But—suddenly a different pain tickles his skin. It feels like he’s standing too close to fire, the heat licking at his skin teasingly before it engulfs him and rips him away. One moment it’s white hot—and then in the next it’s total darkness. 

††

There’s a boy standing outside, hand over his eyes like a visor shielding from the sun still high enough in the air that it’s a bother. He watches an older, black car make its way up the road that runs parallel to the sea. The boy and his family were the furthest ones out, so there was no doubt where they were heading. Suddenly scared, he runs inside to his mother and grandmother in the kitchen, who are discussing something in hushed tones. 

The boy doesn’t pay enough attention to understand the worry in their eyes—he’s only scolded out of the kitchen and is reminded to not go into the guest bedroom. Naturally, the boy disobeys once they get back to their whispered conversation. He tiptoes carefully to the forbidden room, not that it was too difficult of a task since it really was just a makeshift one where the dining table used to be. A standing divider works as a wall to shield the bed from the living room view. 

The boy pokes his head around the divider and stares at the bed. Laying in it is a young man, the boy’s brother, unconscious and paler than he’s ever seen and if it weren’t for the slow rise and fall of his chest, one might think he was dead. The boy feels a strange twinge in his heart and approaches the bedside, in spite of his mother’s wishes. The gloves his grandmother always makes him wear come off his hands easily and the boy searches for his brother’s hand. 

He grabs it and waits. 

Somewhere in the background, there’s a knock on the door, two voices on the other side greet his mother and grandmother. The boy pays no mind to them though, he only squeezes his brother’s hand and waits for the sight of life that never comes. 

††

It’s a strange, hazy moment for Jaehyun. Dreamy memories blur his mind and he can’t even be sure he’s awake. He feels the uncomfortable fabric of his couch against exposed skin to let him know where he is, with a blanket somehow placed over him. Jaehyun also realizes there’s something warm in his hand, but his consciousness is already fading again. He can’t be sure if the last thing he sees and feels before slipping back into dreams is the priest sitting asleep on the floor, with a hand in his, or if that was a part of them as well. 

††

The scene is different this time. There’s a boy, but he’s also different from before. His hair is black like ink with eyes that are a near match. He sits on a bench outside, other kids around him playing, but at a safe distance in the soccer field ahead of him. They’ve long since stopped asking him to join in and instead corner him behind the church when the nuns aren’t looking. 

“Aren’t you a bit young to just be sitting here?” Someone asks from behind the bench. The boy pays him no mind, only continues to stare straight ahead. 

The same person takes a seat next to the boy on the bench and he scowls, moving far away as he can without falling off of it. The person next to him laughs, so this time Doyoung turns his head to glare at him instead. He falters though, when he sees the young man smiling at him. He looks different from anyone else he’s ever seen. His hair is unnaturally pale, and though he’s dressed in black it’s unlike anything he’s ever witnessed the nuns or priests wearing. 

The boy looks away as quickly, unsure if he should be wary of the stranger or not. 

“What’s your name, kid?” the man asks, laughter once again leaving his lips. For some reason, it makes the hair on his arms stand.

“What’s yours?” the boy counters, eyes sharp and skeptical. He stares at his feet rather than the stranger. 

“You can call me Ten.” the stranger says, and the boy does his best not to scoff. It hardly seemed like a real name to him. 

“It’s not good to talk to strangers,” the boy says this time, arms folding across his chest. 

“Well I’ve told you my name, haven’t I?” the stranger replies, his voice sounding a little defensive. 

“I’ve never seen you around here before, so you’re a stranger,” the boy snaps back just as quickly. 

“What happened to your lip?” the stranger asks instead of prodding for his name again. It startles the boy enough, having gotten used to the bruises and cuts that litter his body every other week, he had forgotten about it. 

“I—I tripped going down the steps,” the boy mumbles in reply. He hears the stranger stand and while continuing to stare at his shoes, the stranger’s own shoes come into his line of sight. 

“I can tell when you’re lying, you know.”

When the boy looks up he expects the stranger’s expression to be one that’s judgmental, like the one the nuns give him when he takes too long to finish his dinner. However, when their eyes meet, he sees a soft strangeness in his eyes, a look that is more of concern than anything else. It’s not a look the boy is used to seeing from other people. These days, people always stare at him in pity. 

“Why does it matter, anyway,” the boy says, angling his body away from the stranger, “It’s not like anyone cares.” 

“Well that just isn’t true,” the stranger replies, “I know more about you than you think, and I care.” 

The boy steals another glance at the stranger, checking for insincerity in his eyes. He doesn’t find any, but he realizes that there’s a strange emptiness in them. Still, he finds himself believing the stranger. The boy doesn’t reply though, only stares at the stranger until he’s coaxed into speaking again. 

“And I can help you too, if you’ll let me.” 

As the words leave his lips, the air around them seems to shift with something heavy. The boy feels a shiver run down his spine, yet the words the stranger uttered wrap around him like a blanket of comfort. 

The boy had been at the orphanage for over six months, yet no one until now had spoken to him with the care this stranger has. His body seems to be warning him, but his mind wants nothing more than to follow him wherever he goes. 

The silence seems like it’s never-ending, but Ten acts like he has all the time in the world. The boy looks at him again, swallows once before speaking hardly louder than a whisper, “My name is Doyoung.” 

††

When Jaehyun wakes up this time, his mind does too, his sleep and dreams leaving his body like a receding tide. He sits up on his couch, shoving the blanket out of his lap. He looks around and sees that Doyoung isn’t anywhere, yet he can almost feel a phantom warmth of a hand against his own. Jaehyun wonders if that was a dream, too.

A fast approaching migraine prevents Jaehyun from pondering it any further, though. He prepares to stand, ready to sift through his drawers for medicine when he notices a bag from the convenience store down the street sitting on his coffee table. With a bit of hesitation, Jaehyun grabs it and peers into the bag. He sees an unopened packet of medicine, as well as a vitamin drink inside. For some reason, Jaehyun’s ears heat up and he rips open the medicine pack without giving it too much thought. 

Just as he’s about to swallow down the pills, his phone rings. Jaehyun quickly downs them and answers the phone when he sees Johnny’s name flash on the caller ID. As expected, Johnny is telling him about the murder of a young man they were still in the process of identifying. The description matches exactly what Jaehyun had seen in his vision, with additional wounds and a snapped neck that probably happened when he stopped seeing. 

He absentmindedly rubs at his chest as he listens to Johnny, agreeing to meet up with him the following evening to discuss another potential suspect. Once they hang up, Jaehyun lets out a sigh of relief, the vague description of the new suspect not matching anyone he’s familiar with. 

He starts to bring up Doyoung’s contact to dial so he can bring him up to speed, maybe to assure him that he was alright and maybe make sure Doyoung was doing okay himself, after having to witness Jaehyun’s fit. But—then he gets a text message from Jeonghan and chooses to call him instead. It’s not like he was friends with Doyoung, anyway. They can take care of themselves.

††

“I figured it was something like that,” Doyoung tells Jaehyun later in the week. This time they’re sitting outside of his church courtyard. It’s overcast, the clouds hanging low and threatening to spill with rain. This was the first they’ve spoken face to face since Jaehyun passed out in his own home. He was telling Doyoung that he had a vision of Anicetus killing someone, that was confirmed later on as real through a phone call from Johnny. 

Jaehyun looks ahead of him, focusing on the way the tree branches bend at the will of strong winds. 

“Are you okay?” Doyoung says after they’ve sat in silence for several minutes. Jaehyun glances at him, eyebrows raising a little. 

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Jaehyun responds, unable to hide the hint of defensiveness in his tone. He looks away again and clears his throat. 

“It sounds like it was a pretty disturbing vision, is all,” Doyoung replies calmly, “You were thrashing around a bit too before you passed out, you know. For a moment I thought you were going to scratch up your own face and chest.” 

Jaehyun huffs, for the first time in a while, itching for a cigarette like he was ready to finally claim Johnny’s habit for his own. 

“It’s not the first time I’ve had a vision like that,” Jaehyun says with a shrug, “And it won’t be the last either until we’re able to finally stop  _ Him _ .” 

Doyoung seems to ponder that for a moment, before saying, “Even just witnessing a murder can be harmful to the soul.”

Jaehyun bristles and stands. A sharp gust of wind cuts against his face and he wonders that perhaps if it was any faster, it would leave marks. 

“This is the problem with having Faith,” Jaehyun eventually replies, “Following that logic, I’m already damning myself for reasons out of my control.” 

Doyoung doesn’t have a reply for him, he only looks away, his jaw set. Jaehyun uses the silence to change the subject to the reason for their meeting. He relays information that Johnny had provided him, about a curious man living in a rundown apartment building. He tells him about having a stakeout in front of his building, just to observe the times he comes and leaves. 

“And I assume you’ll keep me updated on anything significant you observe?” Doyoung asks him. Jaehyun regards him when they make eye contact. There’s still a healing cut on his lip from the last time he assisted Jaehyun, and he can’t help but stare at it when he speaks again. 

“Actually, I was hoping that you’d keep me company this time,  _ sinbunim _ .”

††

Jaehyun tells himself it’s because Doyoung’s car is black with tinted windows. Doyoung’s car is easier to hide in while observing the building as opposed to borrowing Yuta’s newer red car that stands out too much to hide away in. He’s managed to in the past, but this is just easier. There’s no other reason to bother bringing Doyoung along other than to utilize his car for investigative purposes. 

Licking the blood from Doyoung’s lips was just an unexpected bonus. 

They make sure to do it when their suspect is long gone from the building and no one has entered or left the premises in many minutes. The blood helps Jaehyun become more in tune with his surroundings as well, allowing him to sense when someone is close enough that they should start paying attention. 

For the most part it’s just people going about their day, not giving the building a sparing glance as they walk to their destination. The mail carrier comes at some point, as well as an older lady with a bag of groceries. 

“It’s making you stronger, isn’t it?” Doyoung asks as they watch the mail carrier leave, bringing the neighborhood into another round of seclusion, “My blood?”

Jaehyun nods slowly, licking his lips as if trying to see if there were any remaining drops on them. He doesn’t look at Doyoung, somehow the question makes him feel a little flustered. He stares at the grey bricks of the apartment building when he responds.

“Yeah, actually. As you know, it gives me more energy, but I also feel more tuned into my surroundings.” 

He can see Doyoung nodding out of the corner of his eye, his hands resting delicately in his lap. 

“That’s good, then,” he says, “Does it improve your ah—abilities ?”

“No,” Jaehyun replies, glancing at his own hands, “Those are the same as usual. The thing with my hands is something I’ve always had. It runs in my family—we call it spiritual power. Tends to skip generations and it manifests in various ways. My mother didn’t have it, but my grandmother did. She had a gift of healing people, though.” 

“Healing people,” Doyoung repeats. He sounds skeptical, but of course given his line of work Jaehyun supposes without the hand of a god, it seems impossible. 

“Yeah,” Jaehyun tries to hide the defensiveness in his voice, “She was a real pinnacle in the village I grew up in. I think people valued her more than our local doctor.” 

“What happened to her?” Doyoung asks after taking the time to ponder Jaehyun’s words. 

“She passed away when I was young,” Jaehyun answers quietly. He stares out the passenger window so he doesn’t have to look at Doyoung at all, “It was an accident. There was someone who was sick that she couldn’t seem to heal, and she called for special assistance.” He pauses, the memory of that day fluttering through his mind as if he were looking at an old photo album. “It didn’t work out, though.”

Before Doyoung can offer a reply, another human heartbeat and familiar footsteps come into Jaehyun’s senses—so familiar that Jaehyun rolls down his window and smiles before the approaching figure is even in his line of sight. 

“Jeonghan!” Jaehyun calls out once he is. Jeonghan’s wearing sunglasses, and pushes them down the bridge of his nose to look in his direction. His hair, Jaehyun notes, had also been bleached to a bright blond. 

“Jaehyun?” he says, sounding genuinely surprised when he walks up to the car while Jaehyun still eyes his hair curiously, “What are you doing here?” 

Jaehyun pauses for a moment, unprepared to have that question thrown at him. Doyoung, however, seems much more prepared. 

“He’s been helping me do visits to our elder church members,” Doyoung replies easily, leaning in a little to look at Jeonghan. He then asks, “What about you?” 

Jeonghan gives him a funny look, a small bout of laughter escaping his lips, “I’m just taking a walk. I live a few blocks back. Surely you remember that, Jaehyun.” 

Belatedly, Jaehyun does realize they’re not too far from Jeonghan’s building. His last visit to the building still burns brightly in his memory. He swallows, guilt rising up to his throat, threatening to spill out in an apology. 

Instead he smiles, “Oh, so you still stay there, then?” 

Jeonghan matches his smile, but something about it seems off, like it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. Jaehyun looks away, unsure how he’s meant to feel about it. 

“Where else would I live?” Jeonghan replies, “Luckily the location is good. Found a replacement for a roommate right away in spite of the rumours.” 

Jaehyun’s smile falters, the guilt starting to rise again. 

“Well, of course a replacement would come easy. Wouldn’t your building be safe now?” Doyoung says suddenly, “I mean, what are the chances of two murderers living there, right?” 

Jaehyun looks at Doyoung, unable to hide the surprise on his face, but Doyoung pays no mind to him. The smile on his face is wide, with too many teeth on display and eyes radiating something unfriendly. If Jeonghan notices it, he doesn’t let it show on his face. 

“I suppose that’s one way to look at it,” he replies before standing up straight, “I’ll see you around, Jaehyun.” 

Jaehyun watches him walk away, and once he turns around the corner, far enough away from Jaehyun’s senses, he rolls up the window and looks back at Doyoung. 

“Why would you say something like that?” Jaehyun asks, “I thought that we’ve discussed it before—” 

“So you still aren’t suspicious of him?” Doyoung interrupts. 

Jaehyun frowns, “You still are?” 

“You don’t think it’s weird that he randomly showed up here?” Doyoung presses on, “Or why he started asking you questions first, so you wouldn’t think to ask any first?” 

“He said he was just going for a walk—” Jaehyun says as Doyoung slams his hands on the steering wheel. He startles, eyes wide, “  _ Sinbunim— _ ”

“And you’re just so willing to believe that?” Doyoung interrupts, gripping the steering wheel tightly, “Are you that blinded by guilt that you can’t even nurture the possibility that maybe you were right in the first place?”

“I’m not—that’s not—” 

“Don’t even try to deny, Jaehyun. I see it on your face whenever you see him—which I don’t understand why because even if he is innocent, you helped catch a murderer, that just happened to be his roommate. Regardless of the outcome, I don’t see it as anything you should be guilty for.” 

The words are logical, Jaehyun knows this, but he still can’t look at Doyoung even after he says them. They aren’t his to take—not his to consume for comfort and reassurance. 

“It’s more complicated than that,” Jaehyun finally says. He looks out the window again, watching a woman walking her dog pass the car at a brisk pace. 

“Then tell me,” Doyoung replies, “Let me know so I can understand.” And then when Jaehyun doesn’t say anything, “Make me understand, or get out.” 

Jaehyun doesn’t hesitate in stepping out of Doyoung’s car. He still wasn’t ready to discuss that part of his past with Doyoung and wasn’t going to just because he gave him a pathetic ultimatum. He sees the way Doyoung sits still, seething in his seat before pulling out of the side parking spot and driving away. His skin feels hot with building anger and he tries to keep it at bay and not let it build into his fist and release against the wall of a building. The last thing he needed was broken fingers-without Doyoung’s blood. Smaller bones always led to a painful night of healing. 

When Doyoung’s black car is out of sight, Jaehyun turns around in the opposite direction. He’s not a few steps that way before he senses himself nearing Jeonghan’s presence again. It’s strange, because by now, he should be much further away. Hesitation causes him to falter in his step. He mistakenly focused too much on Jeonghan that he doesn’t hear someone coming up behind him until they run into him when he stops. 

Jaehyun immediately turns around to apologize, but the person doesn’t say anything. He keeps walking and doesn’t stop until he’s across the street. The man is wearing a hoodie and black mask to conceal his face. Jaehyun only catches a glimpse of bright red hair before he disappears into the building that they had their eyes on all afternoon. Feeling uneasy by it, Jaehyun looks around for a place to hide. 

Sometimes all it takes is a dimpled smile and some excuse involving a fiancée to get let into a building, and moments later, Jaehyun finds himself on the roof of an apartment building. It’s across the street and diagonal to the one the man went into. He’s almost parallel to where Doyoung’s car was, just further up with a helpful view. Jaehyun tries not to dwell on thoughts of Doyoung for too long, and in the end it’s not too difficult—because it doesn’t take too much longer before another figure finally approaches the building. 

When Jeonghan is let inside, he glances around, eyes sharp like he knows someone is watching him. He never looks up, though. 

Jaehyun watches Jeonghan go inside. His stomach churns with uneasiness and his fingers itch to reach for his phone. It looked like Doyoung was right, after all. 

††

This time when Jaehyun enters the church, his mind is no longer clouded with bone deep resentment. It’s late, the moon was already high in the sky. He’s led by a priest he doesn’t recognize into one of the smaller chapels to meet Doyoung. While this one is less extravagant than the main building, it still is poised with a superficial beauty. Jaehyun indulges himself in looking around. He takes off and sets his jacket over one of the church pews on the back row, then walks to the windows. His fingers run along each of the stained glass on the left side as he walks toward the front of the church. 

The images portrayed on them were of the Birth of Christ, with the center one being the nativity scene. The priest that allowed him inside told him that this was where the choir practices their music. He walks past the altar and up the wide steps to something that catches his eye sitting in the back corner against the wall. It’s an upright piano, it’s keys polished and on display. Jaehyun knows that it must be well tuned and sits down on the bench.

He plays a few random chords and cadences, letting his fingers become familiar with the heaviness of the keys again before transitioning into a song he knew from memory. 

The sound is rich in his ears and reflects off the solid walls and floors of the chapel. Jaehyun lets himself get lost in listening as his fingers work through it on muscle memory. It’s not perfect, but it’s grounding. It’s shorter, a tune plucked from a children’s practice book that always haunts his dreams even though he never owned the piece himself. 

“ _ The Sick Doll _ , Tchaicovsky,” A voice—Doyoung says after the last note’s echo has died, “That’s a song I learned to play too when I was a child.” 

Jaehyun smiles before he can stop himself and turns his head to speak, “Is that what it’s called?” 

“Mn,” Doyoung affirms. Jaehyun hears his approaching footsteps, “My parents didn’t like me playing the song so with a little encouragement from my brother, I learned it out of spite.” 

Jaehyun doesn’t find that hard to believe at all. He scoots over to make room and looks at Doyoung this time. 

“I’m sure you can play it better than I ever could, if you remember.” 

Doyoung sits down next to Jaehyun, his hands ghosting over the keys when Jaehyun pulls his own away. 

“I probably do,” Doyoung says, “I practiced every day after school in the time I had before my parents got home. There was also a sister piece to this one, did you know?” 

Jaehyun shakes his head. Doyoung plays a few notes, an unfamiliar order to Jaehyun, but it still had a chilling sound to it.This one seemed a little more haunting, though. Like there was another layer of something sinister hidden beneath it. 

“Like I said, the piece you were playing is called  _ The Sick Doll _ , ” Doyoung starts to explain as he continues to play, “This one is called  _ The Doll’s Funeral _ . ” 

Jaehyun listens carefully to each set of chords. It was just as eerie, but it had a much more finalized sound to it, like something meant as a marker for the end of someone’s life. Jaehyun’s eyes move from Doyoung’s slender fingers to his face. He’s staring straight ahead and it brings back vague memories of his own childhood—from when his mother had attempted to teach him for a short few weeks before giving up. Never look at your hands, she had said, when you play, you’re meant to be reading sheet music, not focusing on your fingers. Only Jaehyun never got to the point where he really learned how to read sheet music, he always had a preference of learning by ear. 

Doyoung plays with stoic practice, his fingers moving of their own accord and his eyes reflecting a memory of their own. It fills Jaehyun with the sudden urge to ask about them. 

His hand reaches for Doyoung’s wrist more out of instinct than deliberate thought and the music comes to a stop at the sudden contact. Doyoung looks at Jaehyun, their eyes meeting. Jaehyun can feel Doyoung’s pulse quicken. He thinks back to their first encounter alone—in the alleyway with the handshake that told Jaehyun everything he needed to know. People’s futures are ever changing and he wonders if the feelings would be the same if he held Doyoung’s hand again. 

“Something wrong?” Doyoung asks. His voice is soft and his eyes haven’t left Jaehyun’s even though his are downcast at Doyoung’s hands. 

With a careful shake of his head, Jaehyun answers, matching his volume, “Have you ever humored the thought of having your fortune read?” 

Doyoung’s eyebrows raise, pulling his hand away from Jaehyun’s grasp. Jaehyun easily lets it go. He meets Doyoung’s gaze again, waiting patiently for him to answer. 

“I can’t say I have,” Doyoung finally replies, eyes squinting slightly, “Why?” 

Jaehyun holds his hand out, palms up, “Haven’t you ever been curious on how I do it?” Doyoung eyes flicker to Jaehyun’s hands, then back at him. 

“Palm reading,” Doyoung says, “You’ve told me that, have said because of your family, er, gift. ” 

Jaehyun smiles, but keeps his hands out. 

“You sound skeptical.” 

“Coming from you, that shouldn’t be an issue right?” For a moment, annoyance flashes across Doyoung’s face that Jaehyun thinks he’s going to turn away from him and change the subject. However his eyes go back to Jaehyun’s palms and he lifts his hands up slowly. “But maybe I’m a little curious. After all, you’ve touched my hands once.” 

Jaehyun is surprised when Doyoung brings it up. He wonders if Doyoung’s suspicions hadn’t faded after all, then. 

“ _ Sinbunim _ , are you curious what I saw—what I felt back then?” Jaehyun asks, unable to help himself. Doyoung’s gaze is heavy when their eyes meet again. 

“I’m sure you’ll tell me right now, anyways.” 

“If it’s still the same,” Jaehyun says while Doyoung carefully lowers his right palms into Jaehyun’s. His hand is unsurprisingly cold, yet Jaehyun feels himself warming up at the touch as he pulls his hand closer to inspect it. He places both hands around Doyoung’s palms. The feelings come back just like it were the first time, but this time much more clearly. 

At the moment of sadness, Jaehyun feels his own heartbreak and sees bits and pieces of Doyoung’s life that he hadn’t anticipated on seeing. A police station—hard interrogations directed at a boy too young to be on the receiving end but now without parents to prevent it—funerals in a town small enough that the three bodies are buried in a cemetery that faces the sea—funerals where only two of the three bodies are mourned.

This time, anger comes second—it boils the blood in Jaehyun’s veins. Another flash of memories of abuse endured by cruel kids at an orphanage, where everyone’s broken and in need of a punching bag—where the weakest and different are subjected to fill that void. Scrapes to knees and elbows, split lips and the occasional black eye—the backs of nuns and priests who never repremend anyone for their actions—the way Doyoung’s anger comes to a boiling point and he meets an ash blonde figure in black clothes—how there’s a moment of blackness in his memory, but once they come flashing back, he’s left alone. Jaehyun feels the way the anger is lowered to a simmer but it’s always there—waiting and ready to ignite as he goes through priesthood and eventually meets a Doh Kyungsoo who leads him to the church he’s at now and the sporadic moment’s of events that lead him to where he’s sitting now. 

And it’s the warmth again—the warmth that feels like it’s caging around Jaehyun’s heart and pools in Jaehyun’s belly. It’s almost the same as last time, but stronger because now Jaehyun’s more familiar with the feeling of Doyoung’s hands when he grabs him tightly, the way his fingers feel, the way his lips feel, the blood that bonds them closer than anything else ever could. The heat almost becomes too much, like it’s threatening to burn through Jaehyun’s palms and spread to the rest of his body. 

When he finally lets go of Doyoung’s hands, he notices that he really does feel heat—it sits on his cheeks and ears, creeping down his back and chest too if they were on display. His breath is more labored than usual as well, but he doesn’t have time to be embarrassed when Doyoung grabs his hands this time. 

“Well?” Doyoung says, his gaze heavy when Jaehyun looks into his eyes. The contact makes him feel a little lightheaded, but he sees the blood on Doyoung’s lip and suddenly it’s all that matters, anyway. “Jaehyun.” 

Jaehyun blinks and tries to focus. “You’ve lived a long life for someone your age,” he says, the words running off his tongue with years of practice, “You’ve experienced a lot of emotions, mostly bad. You’ve felt tremendous sadness and gut-wrenching anger, but you still carry a torch for the idea of happiness. You have a goal—a something —that you want to achieve, that you want to reach. And you’re at the point in your life where you’re so close to getting what you want.”

“And what is that, Jaehyun? What is it that I want?” 

Doyoung’s hands separate from Jaehyun’s and move to the back of his neck to pull him closer. Doyoung licks his lower lip where the blood is pooling, but keeps his tongue out. Jaehyun wants nothing more than to take the blood for his own. 

“Tell me what I want, Jaehyun.” This time when Doyoung speaks his lips are much closer to Jaehyun’s. He feels his eyes glaze over a little, the scent of Doyoung’s blood hitting his nose like it was made just for him. Jaehyun can hardly remember the question, has to think for a moment before he remembers to answer. 

“You want—,” he starts, then stops to lick his lips. When he does, Doyoung moves even closer so Jaehyun’s tongue catches some of Doyoung’s blood. He lets out a shaky breath, “You want—” 

And before he has the chance to complete his sentence, Doyoung finishes it for him by bringing their lips together. The blood smears against Jaehyun’s lip, but he only divulges it when he’s able to lick it out of Doyoung’s mouth. His hand rests against Doyoung’s chest as his lust for blood slips into just  _ lust _ . Doyoung gives as much as Jaehyun takes, pulling him closer, hand moving into his hair. Jaehyun uses this moment to kiss along Doyoung’s jaw to his neck. 

“Once we catch  _ Him _ ,” Jaehyun speaks against Doyoung’s skin, “Do you think you’ll continue being a priest?” 

A hand flutters through Jaehyun’s hair, Doyoung grips it like it’s his life line. Jaehyun grunts, glancing up Doyoung’s face, his own hand running down his buttoned shirt to untuck it from his black slacks. 

“Why is that a concern for you?” Doyoung replies, his voice slightly breathy, his eyes fluttering shut when Jaehyun’s hands make contact with his bare hip, “Do you like me that much?” 

Jaehyun snorts, kissing up to Doyoung’s jaw and back to his lips. His hands explore the planes of Doyoung’s stomach and he bites his lower lip. 

“Maybe I should ask you the same thing,” He says, but something akin to a moan escapes his lips at the taste of more blood. It’s shameless, but Jaehyun catches the change in Doyoung’s eyes upon hearing it. It urges Jaehyun to be more bold and he shifts to straddle the piano bench so he’s completely facing Doyoung, then slyly moves his hands to unbutton Doyoung’s shirt, “I wonder about the kind of things you speak of in a confessional.” 

Doyoung doesn’t say anything right away, but he lets Jaehyun unfasten the white collar around his neck and slide the shirt off his shoulders. Jaehyun’s eyes travel along Doyoung’s naked torso. His skin is smooth, milky white save for scar on his shoulder and the various ones on his forearm. 

“That’s quite a personal thing to wonder about,” Doyoung finally murmurs. When Jaehyun’s eyes go back to Doyoung’s face, he sees a flush in his cheek—like blotches of water color spreading in white liquid. Jaehyun feels the need to find out if his blush spreads the same way across his chest or down his stomach. Doyoung plucks him out of these thoughts when he reaches into his back pocket and brandishes a pocket knife. 

Jaehyun’s gaze immediately hones in on it when he opens it up and reveals the smooth line of silver. It looks devastatingly sharp, like skin would tear easily under the smallest application of pressure. His eyes fall to the healing cuts on Doyoung’s skin from the other times he’s bared the pain for Jaehyun. Usually Jaehyun isn’t allowed to see when Doyoung spills his own blood for Jaehyun to taste. 

This time he looks Jaehyun in the eyes when he brings his palm up between them and lets the knife slice open the skin. Doyoung flinches slightly from the pain, but manages to stay silent through it all. Jaehyun can feel his pupils dilating and nostrils flaring at the sight of the blood pooling out of the cut. Before he can help it, he grabs Doyoung’s wrist, bringing it up to eye level.

He watches the blood slowly run down Doyoung’s hand and wrists, then licks it away near the wound. Jaehyun keeps an eye on Doyoung’s expression, reveling in the way he seems to stare at Jaehyun’s mouth with heavy eyes. 

He carefully takes Doyoung’s hand into his own, thumb pressing on an uncut part of his palm, and stares in fascination as more blood spills out. It’s the tiniest touch of the palm, but Jaehyun can still feel the emotions that radiate off of Doyoung and it only urges him to press harder. Once again he lets it drip down Doyoung’s hand before he laps it up with his tongue. 

“I meant to tell you,” Jaehyun mumbles against his wrist, “About what happened earlier today—maybe you’re right about Jeonghan, after all.” 

Doyoung sets his knife down and slides his hand back in Jaehyun’s hair, pulling him off of his wrist. 

“Is this where I should say ‘I told you so’?” 

There’s a slight tilt to Doyoung’s lips, a hint of a genuine smile that he almost looks unlike himself. Something flutters in Jaehyun’s chest and he tells himself that it’s just the contact of Doyoung’s hand that’s the cause of the feeling. He slides his hand down to Doyoung’s wrist and swallows. 

“I’d rather you not,” Jaehyun replies, eyeing and waiting for the tilt of Doyoung’s lips to go to its resting position, “But maybe I should go back to keeping an eye on him.” 

Doyoung shifts his hand to Jaehyun’s jaw, pulling him close, this time initiating a kiss. 

“That’s a good idea,” he says against Jaehyun’s lips, then moves them to the underside of his jaw. Jaehyun feels his own pulse start to quicken at the unfamiliar territory he’s stumbled upon with Doyoung. 

“ _ Sinbunim _ ,” he starts, then stops, unsure of what it is he wants to say exactly. Instead, Jaehyun closes his eyes and focuses on the feeling of Doyoung’s tongue tasting the skin of his neck and dipping into his exposed collarbones. “ _ Si _ — _ Doyoung _ .” 

Doyoung pauses what he’s doing. Jaehyun lets his eyes open, boring his gaze into Doyoung’s. His eyes ignite with newfound desire and Jaehyun lets go of his hand so he can grab his face and pull him into another kiss. 

This time the kiss is heated from the start, all tongue and metallic tastes that Doyoung seems to have no problems with. Doyoung’s hand comes to Jaehyun’s neck and Jaehyun can feel the smearing of blood transferring to his skin, making the scent of it so strong that he almost gets completely lost in it. 

He kisses Doyoung harder, greedier, hands moving to his bare, broad shoulders and gripping tightly. Doyoung hisses, indicating he’s applying too much pressure, but Doyoung gives as much as Jaehyun does, blunt fingernails digging into his neck before finding purchase once again in Jaehyun’s hair. 

There’s a tension between them, a struggle for each to keep more control over the other. What with the blood on his neck and Doyoung’s lips on his, Jaehyun senses himself losing the battle. It comes to a conclusion when Doyoung manhandles him, shifting them so Jaehyun’s back presses into the piano. A terrible sound echoes around it when he smashes into the keys, but none of that matters to either of them when Doyoung fits himself in Jaehyun’s lap. His hands immediately go for Doyoung’s narrow waist, squeezing hard while Doyoung cups Jaehyun’s face to join their lips once more. 

Their kisses grow slower, but stay just as heated. Jaehyun is overwhelmed with Doyoung’s scent and touch and  _ taste _ . Arousal burns through him and he knows, can feel Doyoung sharing the same sentiments. Unable to help himself, Jaehyun takes advantage of Doyoung being in his lap to mouth at his neck, lapping at the sweat that starts sticking to his skin. 

“Jaehyun—” Doyoung chokes out when Jaehyun drags his teeth at the juncture of his neck and shoulder. Jaehyun glances up at him, fingers digging into his neck. 

Doyoung is biting his lip, eyes near closed and chest heaving. It’s a sight to behold and it hits Jaehyun like a train just how much he loves destroying the virtue of such a corrupted priest. It’s only the beginning, but Jaehyun realizes how much more he wants from him. It’s a sight that also seems to freeze him in place when his eyes at last fall to the necklace around his neck. 

For once, Jaehyun realizes, it isn’t a rosary. 

Jaehyun’s phone starts ringing from his jacket pocket, its sound reverbing against the pews from across the chapel. Doyoung shifts a little, glancing back in that direction, then back at Jaehyun. 

“Do you need to get that?”

Reluctantly, Jaehyun nods. Few people are allowed his number, so when they call it’s usually something important. It’s not the first time Jaehyun’s had to shove a half dressed partner away in order to answer his call from either Johnny or Yuta, but this time he’s slow about it, allowing Doyoung to shift off on his own merits. Doyoung’s blood follows him when he walks over to his jacket, its scent a strong reminder of it being smeared onto the skin of his cheeks and neck. 

His phone stops ringing, but starts up again, urging Jaehyun to quickly yank it out of his jacket pocket. Jeonghan’s name flashes on the screen and Jaehyun nearly stumbles before he manages to answer it. 

“Jeonghan?” he says into his phone. There’s a long silence that stretches over the phone and Jaehyun uses this time to glance over at Doyoung. He catches Doyoung staring back at him as he buttons up his shirt, his swollen lips parted. Jaehyun swallows and forces himself to look away when finally Jeonghan speaks. His voice is calm, almost lacking any emotion. 

“Please help me.” 

The line goes dead and Jaehyun brings his phone down slowly, then looks at Doyoung. Silence fills the air and Doyoung looks back at him expectantly. It was obvious that he was waiting for Jaehyun to speak first. 

“He says he needs help,” Jaehyun manages to croak out even though his throat has gone incredibly dry. 

“Do you believe him?” Doyoung asks. He turns around, shutting the lid to the piano keys, then stays with his back to Jaehyun. 

“I think,” Jaehyun starts, then stops, his internal guilt still wanting to shape around Jeonghan’s character instead of suspicion, “I think that I—that we should go to him. Regardless of what he wants, I think it’s important that we go see him.” 

After he speaks, Jaehyun puts on his jacket as a way to show finality in his words. He then starts walking toward the doors he came in from and glances back at Doyoung. 

“Shall we go?” he asks Doyoung tentatively. Jaehyun notices that while Doyoung is facing him again, clothes smoothed out and hands at his side, he hasn’t made any indication that he’s going to follow him. Something starts to stir within Jaehyun, a sense of uneasiness that seems to itch at his bones. 

Doyoung’s face is masked from any emotions. Which is nothing out of the ordinary for him, however, this time there’s something different about his eyes. There’s something behind them—and emotion that Jaehyun can’t decipher. 

“We can’t go anywhere just yet, actually,” he finally says. 

Jaehyun pauses, then turns around to face Doyoung completely. 

“What do you mean? What is it?” Irritation colors Jaehyun’s voice when he demands answers from Doyoung. 

It’s then that a pain prods at Jaehyun’s left eye like a harsh headache, and then suddenly his vision changes. It’s a short vision this time—something  _ Anicitus _ clearly wants Jaehyun to see. He’s facing two silhouettes. They’re both standing, backs to him. The room is dimly lit, but Jaehyun can make out the bright red hair that sits on the head of the taller one—and a mop of blonde hair that sits on the familiar shape of the shorter one. Before they have a chance to turn around and reveal their faces, he feels himself being yanked out of the vision like someone was tugging on a cord wrapped around his stomach. Voices sound muffled on either end, and Jaehyun feels dizzy for a moment. When the demon’s vision disappears completely from Jaehyun’s sight, the door behind him opens and immediately Jaehyun turns around, positioning his body for defense—and then he realizes that it was Ten. He doesn’t spare Jaehyun a single glance, only looks at Doyoung. 

“Have you done it yet, Doyoung?” Ten asks. Doyoung’s gaze shifts slowly from Ten to Jaehyun, raising his hand to show his bloodied palm. 

“I have.” 

Before Jaehyun can say anything, his phone rings again. When he looks at it, he sees that it’s from Johnny. 

Just as he answers it and brings it to his ear, Doyoung tells him, “Put the phone down, Jaehyun.” 

What’s stranger than the words that Doyoung says to him so simply, is that Jaehyun immediately puts his phone down after hearing them. He stares at Doyoung, eyes wide in disbelief. 

“What—what did you do?” 

And then—even though his phone was now resting in hand at his side, Johnny hadn’t hung up yet, and his voice could be heard in the quiet chapel. 

“Jaehyun? Earlier today, it was discovered that the student escaped. They think he had help from a man with blond hair. I just thought that you’d want to know. Jaehyun, are you there? Hello?”

Too many things were happening at once and this time, Jaehyun was completely powerless.


	5. vabasta, mis pole veel tulnud / release what is yet to come

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> first, major apologies for the delay and lack of replies to comments!! it's sure been an interesting few months, to say the least. i have a few other projects to wrap up for gifts/fests, but i anticipate having the final chapter out by the end of the month ^^ 
> 
> second, i just want to share a few carrd links with you: [black lives matter](https://blacklivesmatters.carrd.co/), [junk terror bill](https://junkterrorbill.carrd.co/), and [hong kong protests](https://standwithhongkong.carrd.co/). stay informed and open to learning, be proactive as you're able to, and amplify the voices that should be speaking!
> 
> **chapter 5 warnings**: brief mentions of suicide, graphic depictions of violence

_ 17 Years ago. _

Hospital atmosphere is always dim, always cold. No matter how brightly light, it always lacks warmth and comfort. One of the nurses had offered Jaehyun a blanket, but it still didn’t satiate the ice in his veins. He sits with his feet hanging over the edge of the hospital bed. His legs were just short enough that they still couldn’t reach the floor in this position and he watched mindlessly as they swung back and forth. 

“Does that hurt?” someone asks from behind him. It’s another boy in the bed next to his. They had him shoved into this room as well while one of the detectives were speaking with doctors about something that _ didn’t need to involve children. _ Jaehyun was facing the window, watching the twinkling lights from a busy city. He had never seen something like it before, so it kept his attention for the most part and he decided to answer the boy only with a slow shrug of his shoulders.

The action itself wasn't the best idea. It pulled his skin in the wrong direction and he couldn’t stop the wince that followed. The boy’s question was stupid, of _ course _ it hurt. It took the doctors ages to get the bleeding to stop, and even then it wouldn’t stop throbbing in a dull pain. Jaehyun continued feeling the pulse of the gash in his shoulder deep in his heart. _ It will scar, _the doctor had said, but insisted it showed that he survived. Jaehyun had a feeling that there was a lot more to it than anyone would realize, but he couldn’t say why past the usual premonition. 

And even though he _ has _survived, Jaehyun felt like there must have been some part of him that died. His entire being felt like he was going through motions underwater. Every movement felt like the slow drip of molasses. 

He could hardly even recall how he’d gotten it in the first place. The events from today were a blur of screams and too much blood. He recalls walking barefoot along a rural road before Detective Seo had found him and insisted on taking him home. At that time, Jaehyun hardly knew where his home was, so he went with her. She introduced him to her only son _ Youngho, _who seemed generally uninterested in him, had only complained about getting home in time to watch a TV show. It didn’t bother Jaehyun, anyway, because he still couldn't find the energy to talk, and there were still active gaps being created in his memories in that moment. 

Before he knew it, he was standing behind detective Seo at some house he didn’t recognize. He could see her, vaguely, talking to someone standing at the front door, but Jaehyun could only hear selectively. He heard the waves of the ocean that hid below the edge of a cliff. He heard the engine of the detective’s idle vehicle. But most importantly, he could hear a heartbeat. It was coming from somewhere inside the home, maybe in a back room. It was moving fast, alert like it was trying to beat its way out of someone’s chest. 

It was the lull of that heartbeat that pulled Jaehyun out of his mind again, and from then he was pulled into strange dreams of a man in black with a blood-soaked arm jumping off of a cliff. When he finally came back into his own, he was squinting underneath ambulance lights, not knowing why he was strapped to the board in the first place. 

From then on, he could only capture what happened by overhearing detectives and police talking amongst themselves. 

_ Killed his whole family, except for a boy, then killed himself. _

_ Just like in the village west of there. _

_ Detective Seo is in recovery. The wound needs stitches, but she’ll survive. _

_ The other one has family, but this one is _ alone. _ We’re not sure where to place him yet. _

_ Your auntie will be here soon,_ the only thing a detective had told him directly.

His aunt was traveling from Seoul_, _which was farther away, somewhere way up north from the current city they were in. Jaehyun had asked about the boy also in the room, but the detective was unable to offer any answer for him before leaving them locked in once again.

He hears a sniffle from that boy that urges him to finally turn around. Jaehyun sees that the other boy is no longer sitting on the bed. He follows the sound of crying and finds him sitting in the corner in the space between the wall and the second hospital bed. The boy was sitting with his knees pulled up to his chest, his mop of black hair displayed for Jaehyun while he hid his face. 

Carefully, Jaehyun kneels as he asks, “What’s wrong?” 

He doesn’t know why he’s asking. There’s plenty that’s happened today that anything and everything _ is _ wrong. He doesn’t expect the boy to answer or even acknowledge him, so Jaehyun is surprised when he raises his head. Their eyes meet, maybe for the first time that night. Jaehyun sees the devastation and pain in the boy’s eyes and he wishes he had a way of taking the pain away from him. 

“I want to go home,” the boy says, “but everyone says that I won’t be able to do that. I just want to go home. I want my brother to come pick me up. Everyone says that my brother can’t do that because he did a bad thing and isn’t with us anymore. But that wasn’t my brother. He wouldn’t—he wouldn’t—”

The boy hiccups another sob in lieu of finishing his sentence, but Jaehyun knows how it’s supposed to end. _ He wouldn’t do that_. Jaehyun thought the same thing about his own brother.

Something twinges painfully in his chest. 

“I want to go home, too,” Jaehyun says eventually, “But I can’t, either.” 

Their eyes meet again after another moment, the boy’s eyes wide as he rubs his nose. Without thinking about it, Jaehyun reaches out to wipe the warm tears away from his eyes, like how Jaewon used to do whenever Jaehyun hurt himself playing outside. The boy looks to be about his age, so Jaehyun doesn’t really know who’s older, but right now he looked so frail that none of that mattered anyway. 

“It will be okay,” he tells him. He’s not sure why he does, because he isn’t even sure of the words himself. 

They continue to stare at each other. The boy looks like he wants to reply, but seems to struggle to find the words. Jaehyun doesn’t mind it because he can see the tension ease in the boy’s shoulders, even if it’s slight. Maybe that’s all he needed to hear. Jaehyun’s grandmother always told him that words have power, and to always take care when offering them to someone else.

He tries to smile, but something falters in his mind again. It’s a brief, but familiar dip in his consciousness, like he’s struggling to wake up. When he gets a hold of himself again, he sees the boy gaping at him, this time with an alarmed look in his eyes. 

The boy opens his mouth, Jaehyun can practically see a question trying to form on his lips, when the door opens again. They both look in that direction and see a doctor, followed by another woman with a frown on her face. 

“Come.” 

It’s the only thing she says. Jaehyun sees familiar features on her face, along with faded memories of photo albums he’s looked through countless times to know that this was his aunt. He quickly gets to his feet and rushes over to her. She grabs him by the shoulder to bring him closer to her. Her bony hands dig a little roughly and Jaehyun has to force himself not to yelp at the pain. It was his right shoulder, the unaffected one, but it still hurt. 

“Let’s get you signed out,” she says, her words slightly accented and it reminds Jaehyun that his mother had told him she lived in another country the majority of the year. She doesn’t look at him again and turns around, coaxing Jaehyun to do the same. He does, but before he follows her into the hallway, he twists his head to look back at the boy. This time, when their eyes meet, there’s something very cold about the boy’s stare. It sends a familiar ache back into Jaehyun’s heart, but for now there was no way of resolving it. He turns his head forward and tries his best to forget the memory.

† † †

If anger manifested like helium, Jaehyun would have long been lifted to the heavens, popped, and fallen to the depths of hell. 

“_Sinbunim_—” he starts, but stops, realizing he doesn’t even know what to say to Doyoung. He can only watch as Ten slinks over to the priest, turning back to regard Jaehyun with an indifferent expression. 

Jaehyun’s heart freezes over like a spell and he can’t help but think about their first handshake—thinks about the color of betrayal he was able to feel so vehemently from Doyoung’s palm. He had no idea that he himself would be on this end of the humiliation, face hardened and heated with near shame. 

“Come over, Jaehyun.” 

Doyoung keeps his voice steady and eyes averted to the ground when he speaks. Jaehyun stiffens his body so when he moves, it’s strange, mechanical movements, like if one listened carefully, it would be the sound of creaks from rusting joints of a steam powered engine. 

He glares once he’s standing directly in front of them and there’s nothing more he could want than to wrap his fingers around the priest’s neck. Unfortunately, he knew that acting on those desires would only lead him to his demise much faster. It was clear that Doyoung was doing something dangerous, and he had an ancient demon at his side for guidance. 

In a span of minutes, Jaehyun found himself completely unsure who the enemy was anymore. 

“Good,” Doyoung replies, then glances at Ten, “You were right, it works really well.” 

Ten responds with laughter, and Jaehyun feels a hot flash of anger, but before he can lunge at the demon, Doyoung speaks again.

“Jaehyun, have a seat. Don’t get up until I’m done explaining.” 

Jaehyun can only grit his teeth and do what he’s told. 

“Please explain, then,” Jaehyun replies, he casts his eyes to the ground, unable to look at either of them. He tries not to think too hard at the betrayal gnawing at his heart. For the past 17 years, he’s constantly felt like a prisoner in his own body at the mercy of _ Anicetus. _He never foresaw that he would hold similar sentiments to Doyoung. 

“My blood is inside you,” Doyoung starts, “It was a willing consummation from both parties. As you know, that’s what makes the strongest bond between human and demon.” 

He pauses, hand touching the new pendant around his neck. Jaehyun eyes it, this time really pays attention. It’s nothing unique or noticeable—a simple chain necklace with a flattened and circular silver pendant—until he flips it over to reveal a strange symbol carved into it. It looks vaguely like it’s meant to be a word or phrase from a dead language. 

“Ten received this from a witch once,” Doyoung continues, eyes downcast to the necklace, “From a clan in Wenchou, thousands of years ago, they used it to control lower demons to do their bidding.”

“I’m familiar with it,” Jaehyun says, voice clipped as he tears his eyes away from the necklace. 

Jaehyun knew of tactics like this. Sicheng had told him and Yuta about it on drunken nights when he was more willing to divulge in his ancestry. Necklaces like _ that _ weren’t always used for the greater good. When the wrong people got a hold of one of them, instead there would be attempts at creating armies of demons to aide in _conquering_. 

Jaehyun never thought he would see something like it in person, nor did he ever think he would be susceptible to them, either. The anger in his stomach bubbles while listening to Doyoung tell him about it, all but saying that Jaehyun to him was nothing but a lowly demon that he can manipulate to do whatever is asked of him. 

“Ten theorized that it would work on you.” 

Jaehyun feels his anger pulsate throughout his veins. 

“You know I’m still human, right?” 

He feels like he can hear every little detail in the church. Every crack of an old pew, the way the air vents struggle to push out air, Doyoung’s heartbeat giving the only semblance of emotion behind his stoic face. 

“And you’re _also _still a demon. There’s a possibility that you have untapped power that we can use against _ Him, _but you’re so against the idea of acknowledging that side of you. So I’m going to help you lure it out.” 

Jaehyun lets his head hang, laughs more out of helplessness than anything. 

“So I guess we’re not friends then, huh?” He tries, though by now there’s nothing he could say to change Doyoung’s mind.

“We were never friends. You despise a large part of my identity as I do with you,” Doyoung says easily, gesturing at the church that surrounds them, “Besides, there’s no such thing as friends before sword. I would have thought that that was something you’d understand, too.” 

Silence washes over them when Doyoung finishes speaking. Jaehyun lets them bask in it, eyes wandering slowly from Ten’s unmoving form, from his non existent heart beat to eyes that never blink, to Doyoung’s carefully crafted stance. 

“Anything else to add, or are you done?” Jaehyun asks quietly, slowly, shifting into a position of leisure. He sits back, legs spread and both arms resting casually on the back of the pew, one arm bent so he can rest his head against his hand. 

Doyoung bows his head, lets out a small exhale, “I’m done—”

And that’s all Jaehyun needs before he quickly jumps up, and with one hand shoves Ten _ hard, _with enough force and inhuman strength. Along with the element of surprise, he is able to send him flying in the opposite corner of the chapel. He knows it’s only enough to buy him a few seconds, so at the same time he grabs Doyoung and tackles him to the ground. 

He sits on him, thighs straddling his waist as he tears off the necklace from around Doyoung and holds it in his hand. 

In a flash, Ten’s at their side, ready to tear Jaehyun away, but Doyoung’s voice stops him.

“Ten, wait,” Doyoung’s voice rings out, slightly strained and breathy from the sudden tackle. Jaehyun glances in Ten’s direction, sees the way he stills at Doyoung’s plea, though keeps his eyes trained on Jaehyun, as if daring him to harm the priest below him. Slowly, Jaehyun turns to look at Doyoung. 

Their gazes meet and he’s surprised to see the calmness in Doyoungs eyes. 

“You’re the way you are because of _ Anicetus_,” Doyoung says quietly. Jaehyun forces himself not to wince at the way his skin prickles and shoulder aches upon hearing the name said out loud, “You’ve seen how people act under his influence, Jaehyun. You _ witnessed _ what they’ve done, how much lack of control they have. You may not be completely under his control, but who says you won’t be in the future? The longer _ He _ goes without being caught, the stronger _ He _ gets.” Both of their eyes fall to the necklace in Jaehyun’s hand. 

Doyoung says in a much quieter voice, “I’m just trying to help us both.” 

Jaehyun reaches for Doyoung's hand, their fingers lacing together, the pendant pressed between their palms. 

“I am, too,” Jaehyun answers and focuses on their connection, the blood that pulses in his hand, an extension of himself _ and _Doyoung. With it, he allows Doyoung to have a reflection of his power. 

And with it being a reflection—instead of pulling them forward into Jaehyun’s murky future, they’re tugged backwards and fall into a pool of Jaehyun’s memories. 

The first one is of Jaehyun’s last Anicetus vision. It’s an echo of how it initially felt, getting clawed at by the victim before indulging in the act of killing, but it’s still like a pressure he can’t seem to shake. He thinks about Doyoung’s words about how witnessing murder can harm the soul, he wonders what goes through Doyoung’s mind as he sees them for himself. 

Slowly, like flipping through the pages of a book in reverse, they drift through various aspects of Jaehyun’s life. The painful ones—instances with demons and the possessed, ones that Doyoung was there to witness, and the handful of those that predated their partnership. Times where he had Yuta, and sometimes Sicheng at his side or whispering in his ear, offering protection and advice as needed. Ones that he found with the guidance of Johnny and the information they exchanged with each other under the guise of false affairs. 

They’re taken before the time of renewed ambition—when Jaehyun was much younger, but still old enough to be a menace to society, fresh out of the military and finding comfort in inebriation. They were the times when Johnny was just a renewed acquaintance that was still just on the police force, exasperated, but still there to bail Jaehyun out when he found him prepared to sleep behind bars at the station for the night. 

To even before that, when Jaehyun was freshly turned 18, somewhere in a club getting off with a pretty stranger in a corner when he witnesses his first murder through Anicetus. It was the first time his craving for blood turned into more of a burn and when his partner whispered with a smirk that he liked it rough, Jaehyun more than indulged him. 

It’s stranger as they approach his youth, the way his body seems to change with each declining year. His height diminished, the baby fat building on his cheeks, but there was a commonality in all the years after the massacres was that he was always alone. For some reason, other students shied away from him. Not even bullies wanted to acknowledge him and the rumors of his past were always a part of ageless whispered gossip. 

_ The way he stares at nothing is strange. _

_ I swear once I called out his name and when he looked at me his eyes were entirely black until he blinked. _

_ Why does he stare like that? _

_ Did you know his brother killed his entire family?_

_ Did you know he doesn’t have a dad? I hear that’s why his brother killed their mom. _

_ I hear _ he _ killed his entire family and blamed it on his brother. _

And they're finally to _ that _ night. It starts with Jaehyun falling asleep. He’s in his and Jaewon’s shared room, but his older brother hadn’t slept in it since falling sick. Jaehyun wakes up to screaming. It should send a chill down his spine, but the noises only make him curious, he opens the door and sees blood spilled onto the hallway floor. It’s a short walk to the living room, and there he finds two lifeless bodies on the ground — one is a stranger he doesn't recognize, dressed all black and partially in the kitchen, the other is his grandmother, lifeless. His mother is next to her while his brother looms over her. A knife in his hand escapes her chest and she collapses to the ground as Jaehyun screams. 

Jaewon notices and beckons him to come closer. Jaehyun’s mind yells at him to ignore him, to make a break for the front door or even through the second exit in the kitchen. If he ran he could reach it, possibly before Jaewon gets to him. Yet—somehow his body urges him _ to _his brother instead of any door, like his body was in a trance. He braces for the pain of the knife that never comes. 

Instead it's a hand on his left shoulder. A shaky breath escapes his lips as he looks up at Jaewon, and when their eyes meet, blinding pain rips into Jaehyun’s shoulder. It feels like something is branding him, like somehow Jaewon was directly behind him instead of in front of him and everything loses light and focus—and then it’s nothing. 

When Jaehyun finally comes into his surroundings, his brother is nowhere to be found. His remaining family still lay lifeless on the ground and he notices the other dead figure is also missing and Jaehyun takes small comfort that he too may have made it out alive, and in not having to step over him to exit the home through the kitchen. 

Once outside, the air is charged with something sinister and it’s like an invisible string that pulls his body toward the road. It’s a winding road, one that leads slowly over the hill and to the fork that takes you to the main village, or east toward the neighboring one. He sees a familiar truck—the one Jaewon drove home in, empty but wrapped around a large tree. For some reason, it doesn’t send Jaehyun into a panic. He wonders if he should go back inside to fetch the house phone. Call someone for help. But still his body doesn’t obey his mind and it isn’t long before his mind is taken from him, too. 

This time when young Jaehyun’s vision is robbed from him, he’s offered another. It doesn’t belong to him. He’s now a man driving with purpose. Jaehyun doesn’t know who he is but he can feel the murderous intent that radiates off of him in heavy waves. He can _ see _ into his mind too. Images of his destination and the people that inhabit the home—a married couple and child with a familiar face. He _ wants _ blood, no, _ needs, _ blood and what better contestants than the people closest to his heart? Jaehyun feels a resistance, strange and cold like ice sliding down his back before he’s stripped away completely and back in his own body. Somehow, the resistance felt in the end attached himself to Jaehyun, like a red string pulling on him until his feet moved on his own accord. This time, when he walks where his body guides him, it does so with _ good _intentions. 

Jaehyun’s shoulder burns, _ aches, _but he keeps walking east along the road. At some point a newer sedan approaches him on the road, comes to a stop when they notice him. A woman rolls down the window in concern. Jaehyun doesn’t see the state of his own appearance, but he does feel the way his shirt sticks to his shoulder blades. 

He should tell her about his family out the outskirts of the village she probably drove from, but instead he tells her the address of a home he’s never been to in his life, and she offers to take him there immediately. 

And then, the moments that follow are a blur of consciousness and lack of. He’s inside the car. He’s not. He’s inside a hospital. He’s not. He’s ready to leave the hospital, eyes on a boy with black hair, whose stare is one of fear. And then it isn’t. 

And then the day changes. 

One of the last memories opens up to a beach. It’s rocky, too blemished, too cold to be an attraction for tourists at this time of year, but Jaehyun is sitting on the set of flat rocks that extend into the ocean. Next to him is his brother, chatting with him animatedly as they eat their picnic lunch that their mother had packed for them. Jaewon was visiting while on winter break, back from his first year of university. Jaehyun remembers the excitement when he came home from his last day of school for the year and found him in the kitchen. 

This memory was days later of course, when the sun decided to peek through the days of rain. It was the last day Jaewon was healthy and his smile rivals the sun when Jaehyun offers him a piece of his sliced oranges. A few minutes later, there’s a voice—Jeonghan’s calling out to them. He was a university friend of Jaewon’s—with dark hair that fell to his shoulders. He lived in one of the neighboring towns. Jaehyun had met him once before during the last break they had, and he was enamoured by him from the moment he grabbed Jaehyun’s small hand and squeezed it in greeting. The twisting in his stomach is much the same when he takes his seat at their makeshift picnic. His smile offered to Jaehyun causes the hair on his arms to stick straight up, and he has to look away quickly, the tips of his ears burning red, and his left shoulder tingling in a familiar way he can’t quite place. 

He’s not sure what to make of the strange feelings, but then Jaewon wraps an arm around young Jaehyun’s shoulders and the moment passes without a second thought. 

He expects it to be the last memory they see—this was the start of everything, somehow. But then the scene blurs and they’re dropped into one last memory—one Jaehyun wasn’t even aware he had. This time, Jaehyun can’t be older than four years old, forced to sit on the kitchen counter while his mother and grandmother speak over him in hushed whispers. 

“You see what’s on his shoulder, _ mother? _ It’s _ his _sign. It’s getting deeper. He’s spacing out for longer minutes at a time now. You need to help me.” 

Child Jaehyun has a vacant look in his eyes as if he’s currently going through one of these spells right now. His grandmother’s hand ghosts over his bare shoulder, her eyes studying it carefully. 

“I can only do so much,” she says finally, looking at Jaehyun’s mother with hopeless eyes, “I can work on suppressing it, but it’ll only hold for 5-6 years if we’re lucky.” 

His mother grits her teeth, looks out to the kitchen doors that open up to the yard. A youthful Jaewon, still in his early adolescence is in the yard, riding his bike with a friend that lives in the next house over. 

His grandmother then places a gentle hand on Jaehyun’s shoulder. He watches his younger self slump over and her other hand keeps him from falling off the counter while unheard words are murmured at his nape. 

His mother stares at his grandmother, eyes red with tears threatening to fall.

“What is a mistake to bring him into this world?” It’s just a whisper, but it’s heard so clearly in the quiet room. 

“You laid with a demon, made a deal with a demon, were deceived by a demon. It’s not your fault, but the consequences are forever yours to bear. His too.” They both look at child Jaehyun, his mother almost seems afraid to touch him, “He’s strong though. I don’t mean because of what his father is, but because of _ us. _I sense good things from him, my daughter. Jaehyun is going to have a lot to deal with in the future, but I think he’ll have enough strength to overcome whatever happens.” 

And just like that, the church comes back into view. Jaehyun slumps forward, stomach and mind swimming from the memories. There’s a sudden hand on his chest that grounds him, reminds him where he is and that he’s still sitting on Doyoung. He opens his eyes and isn’t surprised to find Doyoung staring at him, mirroring his own shocked expression. 

Jaehyun wanted to show Doyoung his life, but that last memory was new for him as well. He had always felt the mark on him was given to him, he didn’t know that it was something that he was born with. If his family were still alive today, he wonders if by now they would have told him? 

He quickly dispels that thought from his mind. They’re no longer here _ because _ of him, and there was no time to dwell on what could never be. Nor was there any time to dwell on the weight of guilt that was slowly settling in the pit of his stomach. He clears his throat and let’s go of Doyoung’s hand. 

“_Sinbunim_,” he says, almost a whisper, “Doyoung, we have to stop him. We _ will _stop him.” He lets go of his hand, leaving the necklace to gather in Doyoung’s palm. 

Doyoung’s hands slowly close around the necklace and Jaehyun clambers off of him. He stands, and Doyoung does the same. 

“I’m sure that you know where we need to go then, correct?” Doyoung says easily. His face is schooled once again, clear of any emotional response to what they experienced. Jaehyun nods. 

“Let’s take your car, yeah?” 

Before Doyoung responds, he glances to where Ten was once standing. Jaehyun swirls around, to see if he was anywhere else in the chapel, but finds that it was just the two of them now. It’s then that he realizes that at some point the demon had slipped out when they were too wrapped up in each other to notice.

“It isn’t his fight to fight,” is all Doyoung says on the matter, then regards Jaehyun, eyes lingering on him for a moment before turning towards the doors, “Let’s go.” 

† † †

With the realization of his past, Jaehyun knows that in theory, he should have been too strong for the necklace unless deep down he was _ willing _to follow the wielder. He also tries to push that thought out of his mind. Now wasn’t the time to ponder what the implications of that meant for his heart. 

Doyoung’s nervous. Jaehyun can tell by the way his leg bounces, shakes the entire car, but he can also tell by the way he keeps up conversation while Jaehyun drives. He talks about Ten, about their history together. How he found Doyoung at the orphanage months after his family’s murder, could sense the pain of his best and offered friendship. 

Kept the friendship even, when Doyoung decided to walk the path of priesthood. It transitions to him talking about his brother, the kind of person he was in contrast to his parents. His parents that were so devout, so religious yet were still never satisfied with decisions made by their eldest son. And despite all of that, Doyoung still loves them and misses them even on the easiest of days. 

He still misses his brother the most, though. It’s something Jaehyun can also relate too. It's a permanent scar to the heart that can’t ever be replaced. 

“You asked me if I would remain a priest after all of this is over.”

Jaehyun offers Doyoung a brief glance in acknowledgement before focusing back on the road.

“I am devoted to God, and God only,” Doyoung continues. 

“You made that clear enough,” Jaehyun answers quietly. The necklace is back around Doyoung’s neck again though he’s yet to try and use it, “Though I’m not too sure if a priest with a revenge story is the ideal.” 

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees the way Doyoung’s leg stills, his attention turning to Jaehyun. 

“It’s not about the _ ideal, _ anyway,” Doyoung snaps, “I’m not perfect, but He doesn’t need perfection. And it’s not just a simple revenge story. It never was just about me, I especially see that now.” 

There’s something about his words that tickle Jaehyun’s heart, the way he murmured them so carefully like it’s a secret he shouldn’t reveal. Jaehyun takes it as a form of an apology and feels a little lighter. 

“That’s—” he starts, but stops, his vision flickering for a moment. He tightens his grip on the steering wheel and takes his gas off the pedal, quickly looking around to make sure there were no other cars on the street. 

“Jaehyun?” Doyoung says with concern, reaching out to him, but Jaehyun never feels the touch when he’s yet again ripped out of his mind and into another. 

This time he sees it clearly. A person standing in the mirror, with hair an uncanny red. It doesn’t take Jaehyun but a second to realize that it’s the same man from before—the _ student _ . He’s staring directly into the mirror like he _ knows _that Jaehyun is seeing him, a smirk forming on his face as he pushes back his hair. 

He then turns away, walks away from the hallway to the living room of what appears to be an empty apartment. The floor is stained with drawings and writings in dead languages in awful red streaks that Jaehyun dreads that he already knows what it was written in. The red tapers off to one corner of the room and Jaehyun’s stomach jumps into his throat at the sight before him. It’s there that Jaehyun sees Jeonghan on the floor and seemingly unconscious against the bare wall. His hands are tied in front of him, along with a cloth of some sort gagging his mouth. There’s blood stained to his forehead and before Jaehyun sees anything else about it, he’s torn away from the vision.

When his own sight comes into view, Doyoung has instantly taken hold of the steering wheel, tugging it away from a looming street lamp just as Jaehyun manages to come to a complete stop. He quickly shuts off the car in case anything else happens, and for a moment they both sit in silence save for their startled breaths. A hand carefully finds Jaehyun’s and it tugs, urging him to look over at Doyoung.

“What did you see? Are you okay? Do you need me to drive?” 

Jaehyun takes one final deep break and turns the car back on and into drive, speeding within a matter of seconds. 

He says, “I’m fine. But Jeonghan isn’t. He’s with his roommate again. I—I don’t think that his roommate was completely saved after all, or—or I don’t know, somehow fell under _ His _influence again.”

Jaehyun picks up his speed, the tires screeching a little when he takes a turn too sharply. 

“Are you sure that’s the case?” Doyoung asks. 

“I’m positive,” Jaehyun says, “The kid stared right at me in the mirror like he was doing it all with purpose. There were writings...inscriptions written on the floor. I think he may be trying to do some sort of ritual.” Jaehyun swallows and tries not to think about the cut on Jeonghan’s forehead, or what other hidden places were bleeding as well. There was a lot of blood painted onto the floors. He tries not to think about it all coming from Jeonghan. 

After several tense moments, Jaehyun pulls onto the familiar streets they had had a stake out in only days prior. Jaehyun gets out of the vehicle without any hesitation and marches over to the building. He doesn’t anticipate a hand grabbing his wrist to stop him in his tracks. 

“Jaehyun,” Doyoung looks at him with gentle eyes, mouth open like he has something on his mind to tell Jaehyun, only there’s something holding him back. It feels familiar and Jaehyun observes him in the silence, noticing the way his pendant has tangled a bit with his rosary, both now securely around his neck. Carefully, he removes Doyoung’s grip from around his wrist, fingers lingering on his before pulling away completely. 

“Tell me after we take care of this. Sounds good, _ sinbunim?” _There seems to be some hesitation in Doyoung’s face, but he nods, then turns to look at the building looming over them. 

“Right. How do we get in?” 

The building interior is much shabbier than its exterior. Upon the entrance floor, there were no security measures apparent other than cameras that may not even be working, thus getting in wasn't an issue. The elevator was unsurprisingly out of order, so the pair went for the stairs, taking them 2 at a time. Jaehyun listens carefully to his senses, letting them guide himself and Doyoung to their destined location. 

At the fourth floor, a chain and sign close off the upper floors. Jaehyun climbs over the chain and looks back, waiting for Doyoung to catch up to him.

“You’re sure they’re up here?” Doyoung asks, stepping over the chains himself, a little out of breath from the stairs. 

“I can sense it,” Jaehyun replies and continues farther up. As they past the fifth floor door, they saw it was blocked off with locked chains and deadbolts and plastered with warning signs. On the 6th floor it’s much the same, only the chains were cut and deadbolts were busted off. Doyoung and Jaehyun share a knowing glance and make their way into the hallway. 

“Oh, I know what happened here now,” Doyoung says, using his phone as a flashlight to bring light to the otherwise blackened hallway, light reflecting on a brass sign indicating this was hallway _ a_, “There was a fire in this building, maybe 4 years ago. My church assisted with supplying food and shelter for the tenants that were permanently displaced as a result. I guess they never repaired these floors. Surely that’s not legal, we’ve seen that they have tenants on the lower floors.” 

“They probably pay next to nothing in rent as a service for not complaining,” Jaehyun answers, looking around. There were walls stripped bare to the bones that gave way to the abandoned flats. Glancing inside them, they could see it was much the same. Other parts of the hallway gave way to rotting wood. Toward the end of the hallway, they have to avoid an actual hole that goes straight through the subfloors, Jaehyun quickly having to tug Doyoung to the side by his shirt so he doesn't step through it. 

The end of this hall leads to another that follows along the side of the building. Jaehyun found it strange that there wasn’t a matching hallway on the opposite side they entered from. Doyoung walks ahead of him, peaking through the windows. Jaehyun follows, but stops suddenly when he’s about to pass by another hallway. Then turns his head, squints at the sign that says _ b, _and feels a strange pull to go this way. 

“Doyoung,” he whispers, then motions him to follow once he has his attention. 

Toward the end of this hallway, the fire damage is less noticeable, scorch marks and melted wallpaper as opposed to broken structures that allowed them to see inside the rooms. Jaehyun comes to a stop when he passes by a door that’s in near perfect condition. It’s painted a dark red, like it was refurbished to its original condition, a shiny golden _ 6 _screwed into the door. 

Jaehyun shares a brief look with Doyoung before placing his hand on the door knob. He turns it, nonplussed to find it unlocked. He opens it without further preamble and leads the way inside. 

Jaehyun finds himself less surprised at the finished unblemished interior than he ought to. He urges Doyoung to remain in the entry hallway while he presses forward and steps into the empty living room. A singular overhead light switches on and in the corner of the room he sees Jeonghan slumped over in the near exact position he saw in his vision. 

He pauses, trying to sense the red haired demon, but the air around them is still void of anything and it sets Jaehyun even more on edge—but he glances at Jeonghan’s limp form and runs over to him anyway. 

“Jeonghan?” he murmurs, kneeling in front of him. He doesn’t respond, so Jaehyun takes his head in his hands, tilting it up. His near white hair contrasted against the blood that stained the side of his head and trickled down all the way to his jaw. He calls out his name again and then listens carefully for a heartbeat. 

His heart clenches when the only other one he can sense is Doyoung’s from near the front door. Jaehyun’s hand moves to his neck, searching for a pulse point while his eyes scan for any other wounds on his body. When he doesn’t find any on his front, Jaehyun pulls him forward in an embrace, feeling his back for any as well. 

It’s then that he feels the remnants of an oddly shaped scar in the middle of his back. He traces it again, more slowly this time, heartbeat quickening as he realizes with dread the shape of it. 

He also recalls how in his vision, Jeonghan had been subdued, tied up and gagged like he would have put up a fight otherwise. The Jeonghan in his embrace had none of that. 

His laugh is quiet, slow building like the rumble of distant thunder in his ear. 

“Bet you’re kicking yourself now for not sticking with your instincts the first time, huh?” 

Before Jaehyun has time to react, Jeonghan grabs Jaehyun by the front of his shirt and slams him against the bloodied and marked floor. 

Jaehyun grabs at his arm, but Jeonghan smiles and blinks, his usual eyes slipping into something solid black and when he looks into them, his own vision ceases. 

“How does it feel knowing that you spent all this time chasing me, and you found me, only to be so easily swayed away by my pet's little deceiving experiment? Mingyu-yah! Come out, won’t you? And bring your new friend too.” 

Upon those words, Jaehyun’s sight falls into another's—whom he formerly knew as Jeonghan’s roommate, student Kim—_Mingyu _. Pure malice fills his heart as he steps into the living room, staring at Jeonghan with Jaehyun underneath him. It’s a moment of pure helplessness that only intensifies when he realizes his hand is around another’s throat. Mingyu turns to look at where his hands are placed and Jaehyun’s heart sinks further into his chest when he sees Doyoung, struggling to get out of his grip. 

_ Stop, _is what Jaehyun wants to say, what he tries to say but he’s powerless as he’s forced to look through the eyes of another. 

“What do we do with him?” He hears Mingyu ask, his eyes meeting with Jeonghan’s, “We don’t need him, right?” 

Jeonghan grins, “That’s right. Do whatever you’d like.” 

Time seems to slow down in the next moments. Jaehyun has seen various murders at the hand of his own through the eyes of which he sees. When Mingyu takes Doyoung’s neck, with inhuman force, snaps it in one go, his body instantly going limp, Jaehyun’s entire _ soul _feels like it’s been dipped in arctic waters. 

Immediately he shouts Doyoung’s name, loud enough with force that rips from the pit of his stomach, in his own voice he realizes when Jeonghan’s grinning face comes into view. Jaehyun shakes violently, almost throwing Jeonghan off of him, but somehow, he’s always quicker. He grabs Jaehyun’s jaw and forces him to look where Mingyu was standing—alone. 

“How _ interesting_,” Jeonghan sneers, “I only made you see what _ I _ wanted you to see. Your priest is still fine, though I’m sure just a little bit startled with your dramatic shouting. Why don’t you go ahead and join us in the living room, _ sinbunim_.”

Jaehyun wants to shout at him to leave, to go away and get help instead of coming in, but Doyoung’s in the living room before he can do so much as open his mouth. Still, Jaehyun finds short lived relief in seeing his living form, still intact and unbothered yet by either demon. Their eyes meet briefly, something sparking between their gaze. 

“Don’t you dare hurt him,” Jaehyun grits out, eyes averting back to Jeonghan—who laughs before he can even continue with expletive threats. 

“Oh don’t you worry,” Jeonghan replies much too happily, almost like a purr. He caresses a finger along Jaehyun’s face and Jaehyun recoils, turning his face away, “We won’t touch a single hair on his pretty body, not unlike you though. I can smell you on each other—not that I’m anyone to judge. I slept with your mother after all.” 

It’s another surge of anger that allows Jaehyun to disentangle one of his hands to punch Jeonghan in the jaw. The freedom is short lived, Jeonghan’s pure, demonic strength easily subduing him, yet he doesn’t try to physically assault Jaehyun in response. Once again, it’s the sound of his terrible laughter that fills Jaehyun’s ears. Jeonghan leans down close to Jaehyun’s face, blood from his split lip threatening to fall onto his own. 

“You’re so hot headed, Jaehyunie,” he grins, “Don’t worry though. It was in my previous body. I only got this one about seventeen years ago.” He pauses to sit up, lip curling, as he wipes the blood off his face, “Unfortunately, it’s deteriorating at a much faster rate ever since I turned Mingyu.” 

“So it’ll be easier for me to kill you, then,” Jaehyun says even though he knows that Jeonghan’s plan is about to roll off his tongue. 

“How’d you know that’s exactly what I want you to do?” he murmurs and lets go of Jaehyun, getting completely off of him, but before Jaehyun even has the chance to sit up, his vision is taken from him, this time replaced with complete darkness, “You see, since you’re of my own flesh and blood, you’re a little halfling that’ll actually be able to handle my power in this human world.” 

Jaehyun staggers a little as he gets to his feet, still blinded, but tries to lunge at the sound of Jeonghan’s voice. It’s a fruitless labor. 

“That’s why I’m going to let you kill _ this _ body,” Jeonghan laughs, “And then I’m going to devour your soul and live in permanence with _ your _ body.” 

Jaehyun feels a hand run down his back and he quickly turns around and lunges again. Another laugh. 

“Ah, and your generational gift is going to be so much fun too.” Another caress, this time on his shoulder, “I really did luck out with you. I’m glad I waited instead of taking your grandmother when her powers fully manifested. Yours are going to make me so much more powerful, Jaehyunie.” 

The mark on Jaehyun’s left shoulder burns at the touch, but he’s quicker this time, manages to swivel around and grab Jeonghan’s wrist. He digs his nails in to try to secure him in place and hears Jeonghan grunt in affirmation when his other hand connects with his face again.

But fighting blind proves difficult against not one, but two demons. Mingyu grabs him by the neck and arm, digging his nails so roughly that Jaehyun loosens his grip on Jeonghan. 

Both of them let go of Jaehyun and leave him somewhere near the center of the room, breathing hard and trying to listen. 

“Jaehyun, sweetheart,” Jeonghan starts, “Just for that, not only will I eat your soul, but before I do, I’m going to make you kill your priest with your own hands, and then let you watch as I drink him dry.” 

Jaehyun feels himself growl, but he doesn’t respond with words because it’s the faintest scuffle of a shoe that tips him off that he was standing near one of them and he quickly turns to his left and prepares to punch the demon with all of his strength. 

“J-Jaehyun it’s me,” Doyoung’s voice says and he stops short of hitting him. By the time he realizes Doyoung’s heartbeat is too far away to be directly in front of him, he hears Mingyu laugh this time and give him another powerful shove. Jaehyun’s back slams into a corner of the room. Before he’s able to get up, visions, too many begin to fill his mind. 

They’re loud and vivid, too many for Jaehyun to distinguish. He realizes as he clutches his head, they’re memories from Jeonghan’s—from _ Anicetus’s— _possessions throughout the thousands of years. The gruesome death of far too many fill his mind and sight. 

Everything was too loud, and Jaehyun could only register the terrors of his mind. He slides down against a wall, succumbing to the feelings of fear and loneliness.

† † † 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i promise i'll be more interactive with comments this time!! i am excited to hear your thoughts on this chapter, as we are almost to the end. :)

**Author's Note:**

> you can find me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/suhweaterpawz) and [curious cat](https://curiouscat.me/b0tticelli). tho tbh i'm mostly on my main [twitter](https://twitter.com/botticeIIi) :) 
> 
> thank u for reading~


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